Yeah, monthly updates aren't going to happen. The books are too long and my work schedule is completely unpredictable. I will try my best, though, to keep updating. Only got two more after this one.
So disclaimer: Recognize it? Then I don't own it.
Now enjoy it!
Oh, before I forget. Someone left me a review and I feel like I need to explain a little bit. Basically the reviewer asked that since Nnoitra is a masochist, why isn't he uke? Well my reasoning for that is because he doesn't let anyone dominate him. So if anyone was wondering the same thing, there's my reason. He doesn't take it, he gives it. Getting hurt turns him on, but he does not do uke.
One more thing! Ron and Hermione will not appear as often from now on. Nnoitra's breaking away from them since last chapter, he has whoever he wants now. They will make appearances that I find necessary, however, but otherwise, not so often.
Now enjoy it!
Here the Chapter Starts
It is hot. That is all he knows at the moment and all he cares about. He has died and gone to hell, it was so hot.
If this were hell, Aizen would be around here somewhere.
Point taken. I'm sure he's around here somewhere.
Nnoitra laid outside, the noise from the television drifting out through the open window. Surprisingly, there had been no reports about any unusual deaths or mass destruction or anything that held up a giant neon sign saying "VOLDEMORT'S BACK! KISS YOUR ASSES GOODBYE!"
"Typical," he snorted. "Laying low. Damn asshole. Putting me through all this shit and doesn't even rub it in my face. Some evil madman." A loud sound suddenly rang out through the neighborhood silence. "For fuck's sake!" he yelled, startled by the noise. The reactions the elder Dursleys had, though, was quite comical.
His summer had been long and boring. No news and only small notes from a select few people still mailing him. Szayel and Tesla, though, tried to be more informative. Tesla mainly told him that the world seemed normal, Voldemort wasn't doing anything to signal his return. Szayel sent him letters about moving to England, taking residence at Hogwarts during his apprenticeship while his teacher is working at the school, and – oh yeah! – there's some 'secret' group of people trying to fight some evil madman who hasn't done anything yet. They were informative. Everyone else was telling him to keep his nose clean and not to look for trouble. He kindly sent them replies along the lines of 'fuck you all'. 'Thank you' responses were sent to Szayel and Tesla.
Didn't mean he wasn't bored. He had been itching for something to happen all summer. So when his cousin and the brats that follow him around showed up, he grinned. Finally.
"Big D?" Nnoitra commented, making the small group jump. Nnoitra's grinned widely, showing off his perfect piano-like teeth. "That short for Big Dickhead? Trying to compensate for something you lack, fatass? Hey, with all that damn weight on you, something besides your fucking brain is gonna lack."
"Shut up!" Dudley yelled at him.
Nnoitra scoffed as he rose to his feet. He rolled his shoulders and popped his neck then stared at the group. "Why don't you little piss-ants go home and change your pants? I'm sure you shit in them enough. I can smell it from here." Like the Dursleys, Dudley's little gang of bully wannabes learned early on that Nnoitra does not become a victim, he makes them. So they ran, terrified of the slightly younger but much taller teen. "Pussies. So, Dudley, how's it hanging?"
"Stay away from me," Dudley warned.
"Or what? Gonna cry to daddy? Or perhaps to your mama? Think I'm scared of you? Go change your fucking pants. You pissed yourself."
Cold. Despair. Freezing. Hopelessness.
In almost a split second, an argument between him and his fat cousin stopped because of that. The cold. "What are you doing?" Dudley stuttered out. "Stop it! I'll tell dad! I'll hit you! I can't see! I've gone blind!"
"Drama," Nnoitra scoffed, the chill running through his veins. "Can't be here." Then he slapped his forehead. "See, I say shit like that and shit happens!"
"Where are you? What are you doing? Stop it! I swear I'll hit you!"
"Shut the fuck up," Nnoitra sighed harshly, grabbing the fist that was coming towards him. "You'll get your ass beat for this later, bitch." He heard them now, rattling breaths. "Keep your fucking mouth shut or you'll turn into a vegetable." He released Dudley, who ran away, trying to find a way out of the darkness. "And you're a dumbass running right into it."
Dudley's stumbling went silent but was followed by a squealing yell. Nnoitra closed his eyes and thought of whatever happy memory he could think of. "Expecto Patronum."
Light erupted from his wand, taking the form of Santa Teresa, before she swooped down upon the pair of dementors, chasing one away from Dudley before it Kissed him. She grabbed both creatures by their necks and threw them into the surrounding blackness that soon faded away. "Nicely done," he commented before Santa Teresa bowed to him and vanished. "Get the hell up, you worthless piece of shit. You're lucky I even saved your ass."
Footsteps approached. Nnoitra looked over, his hand gripping his wand as though it were Santa Teresa, even though he knew otherwise. The batty old neighbor next to the Dursleys came into view, looking back and forth between him and Dudley. "I didn't do shit," he stated as he tried to put his wand away.
"Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked at him, making him blink. The hell? "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"
Nnoitra blinked a couple more times. "The fuck you talking about?"
So the next door neighbor is a squib. Swell. He dragged Dudley as the woman ranted on and on about this Fletcher guy and how Dumbledore will hear of this and who knows what else. At least she was talking about something other than her cats. Then Fletcher showed up and Nnoitra really had a show. She started beating the man senseless with her bag, which was possibly filled with cat food.
I wish for popcorn.
Doesn't work like that.
As expected, Petunia Dursley panicked over Dudley's state and Vernon was furious. Nnoitra just really did not give a damn, as he had told Vernon when he held out his empty hand. "Do you see the damn? Do you? Well, it's not given."
Vernon turned purple. "What did you do to my son?!" he roared.
"You know, instead of yelling and spitting your disgusting germs on me, you should be on your hands and knees thanking me for even bothering to save his ass," Nnoitra snarled back at him, standing at full height and getting back in Vernon's face.
"What did he do to you, Diddy?" Petunia tried asking her pale son. "Was it – was it you-know-what, darling? Did he use – his thing?"
"Really?" Nnoitra scoffed at the choice of words. If anyone other than this family had heard her say that, they would probably think of something completely different. Dudley nodded anyway. "To save your ungrateful ass! You should be thanking me, you worthless piece of shit!"
Just as Santa Teresa said, a screech owl flew in through the kitchen window and dropped a large envelope at Nnoitra's feet. It was gone before he could grab it. As Vernon ranted about owls in the house, Nnoitra read over the letter, basically saying what he did and that people were on their way to the house to destroy his wand.
Oh well. Still got a badass zanpakutou.
Why thank you, my Master. It's nice to be complimented in such a way…especially by a sexist like you.
How to say this without sounding ridiculous…fuck it. Let's just admit that I would probably not be here if I did not have you. There, I said it! Happy now?
Yes. That is the sweetest and most non-sexist thing you have ever said.
Oh, shut up already.
Vernon's yelling again, by the way. And another owl is coming.
How do you know these things?
I am just that awesome.
A second owl flew in and dropped its letter, which Nnoitra caught before it hit the floor. He ripped open the envelope and scanned over it. "Dumbledore handling situation at ministry," he muttered. "Do not leave house. Do not pass go and do not collect 200 dollars!" The Dursleys stared at him in silence for a moment. "You guys need to do something other than sit on your fat asses and watch the damn TV."
"What were those letters about?" Vernon demanded, jabbing a fat finger to him.
Nnoitra stared at him blankly then smirked. "Just because I'm in a generous mood," he stated. "And don't fucking interrupt. First letter from the damn Ministry of Magic-"
"Ministry of Magic?" Vernon repeated in a disbelieving bellow. "People like you in-" He didn't say anymore since Nnoitra's foot was reintroduce to Vernon's large stomach, knocking the air out of him and knocking the large man to the floor.
"I said don't interrupt," he commented, lowering his foot. "Now, they were going to expel me for using magic to save your dumbass, worthless, ungrateful, waste of skin and air brat from Dementors, which basically make you feel like you'll never be fucking happy again and can suck out your damn soul. He ran into one, almost got his worthless soul sucked out, and now he's like that. Second letter was from Arthur Weasley, you met him last year, Vernon. He popped out of the fucking fireplace with his kids? Yeah, him. Anyway, he was just telling me to stay the hell here and Dumbledore's handling everything. You can talk now, by the way."
"What the ruddy hell are dementors?" Vernon asked, face still changing colors in his rage.
"They guard the wizard prison Azkaban," Petunia answered before Nnoitra.
Both Nnoitra and Vernon looked at her and silence reigned for a couple of seconds. Then Petunia slapped her hand over her mouth. "Okay, too much shit going on, so someone clear this up!" Nnoitra said, waving a hand through the air.
And here comes owl number three! Shall we try for a number four?
You're having way too much fun.
As Vernon yelled about the owl, Nnoitra read the third letter. No one was coming to destroy his wand and he was to be put on trial to explain why he used magic around Muggles in a muggle neighborhood and blah-blah-blah.
It's amazing how fast they are with this.
I know! I mean, it only happened not even an hour ago.
I'm being watched and stalked. Not happy!
Calm, Master. Calm.
I want Szayel.
Santa Teresa slapped her forehead in disbelief.
"Well?" Vernon asked. "What now? Have they sentenced you to anything? Do your lot have a death penalty?"
"You would only be so unlucky," he replied with a nasty grin. "Death can actually make you stronger than you think, Vernon. You don't want me coming back as a ghost you can't fucking hit." Pleased to see Vernon go white, he looked back at the letter. "And for your unimportant information, no, I'm not sentenced to anything. I'm going to a damn hearing."
It's only been how many decades since your last?
True. Oh! Hawk!
"What?" Nnoitra said out loud before a large golden hawk flew in through the window and landed on Nnoitra's shoulder. It waited until Nnoitra took the letter from its beak then flew off. "That was fucking weird." He opened that letter quickly, curious as to who had a hawk.
'Nnoitra, Dumbledore just told about what happened,' the letter read in familiar writing. When did Szayel get a hawk? 'If you get a letter from the Stark-look-alike, don't be surprised. He was frantic with worry, darling. Good job pissing off more people. New record? Anyway, I overheard some plans for them to come get you from those…disgusting creatures. See you soon, love! -Octava Szayel Aporro Grantz'
Why use old names?
So if anyone intercepts the letter, they won't know who he is or who he's sending to. He's using old names as aliases!
Well, all's good in the world!
Until you piss more people off.
I'm on a roll!
After the confrontation of Vernon trying to kick him out, which only resulted in the larger man getting two black eyes and a bleeding nose, one more bird flew in and dropped its letter near Petunia. It was already smoking before she picked it up.
"This should be good," Nnoitra chuckled, sitting down on the arm of a nearby chair. "Go ahead and open it. Everyone here will hear it anyway."
She tried to find someway to get away from the letter before it finally burst into flames. She shrieked and dropped it, but the echoing, single sentence commanded silence.
"REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA."
The entire household was silence before Nnoitra shrugged. "Yeah, weird shit going on. I'm going to bed."
"We're going out," Vernon told him a few days later.
"Say what?" Nnoitra asked him in confusion.
"We – as in your aunt, cousin, and I – are going out."
"You are not to leave your bedroom while we are away. You are not to touch the television, the stereo, or any of our possessions. You are not –"
Nnoitra couldn't hold it anymore and started laughing loudly. "Oh, Vernon. It's hilarious how you think you can still tell me what to do! I thought we covered this when I was four!" He continued laughing. "Get the fuck out of my room. I do what I want. I want a party? Be prepared to clean up after me. I want to blast music, deal with it. Now fuck off!"
Angered and annoyed, Vernon slammed the bedroom door closed. Nnoitra, with a smirk, got out of bed and headed downstairs when he heard the front door close. He turned on the stereo and turned the volume up as much as was comfortable for him. Rock music flooded the house. Content with the noise, he headed towards the kitchen and started to dig into whatever he could find.
"Junk," he noted as he looked at everything. "Piece of shit. Dudley germs. Wasn't this from two weeks ago?"
Gross. It's all moldy and shit!
A window breaking caught his attention, and before anyone could do anything, he was on the intruder. He pinned them down to the ground with a hand on the throat and looking at who was dumb enough to follow.
"Harry, calm down," a familiar voice spoke softly. "Let Moody back up."
"The fuck is going on?" he asked, looking at Remus Lupin then down at Mad-Eye Moody. "Sneaking in here like that, you're damn lucky to still be alive. Assholes. Who the fuck are all of you people?"
"He has quite a mouth on him," a wheezy-voiced, silver-haired wizard commented.
"Told you," Remus shrugged off.
"Wotcher, Harry!" a violet-haired, young witch greeted, bouncing in front of him.
"The fuck is wrong with you?!" Nnoitra shouted, hand on her face and pushing her away. "Get in my face again, bitch, and I'll rip it off!"
"See, this is why I insisted on coming along," a smooth voice interrupted. "Tonks, do control yourself. Harry hates his personal space invaded by people he doesn't know or like, especially women. Harry, get off Mad-Eye already. You're suffocating him! See, Moody, this is why I said the door. Remus, I said we should have sent him a note. Lucas would have done so just fine, but no. It had to be a secret. Next time, take my advice because he can kill someone very easily. With his bare hands."
"Gabriel, stop complaining and come here," Nnoitra sighed as he released Mad-Eye and stepped back. Within seconds, his pink-haired mate was in his arms, nuzzling his chest.
"Hello, darling!" Szayel greeted. "By the way, we just got Colin yesterday. Thought it would be better if we were both with you during this. The only piece of my advice taken seriously. Though Colin isn't here right now, he's at headquarters."
"Headquarters of secret organization?" Nnoitra asked.
"Order of the Phoenix, Harry, I told you before," Szayel reprimanded.
"You told him about the Order?" Remus asked in shock. Everyone else was staring at him with disbelief as well.
Szayel let go of Nnoitra and glared back at the group. "You can think you know him so well, but none know him better than Colin and I…maybe Alexander as well. Not the point. Withholding information from Harry would only result in distrust and he would beat you the next chance he gets. Of course, not Colin or I, but we don't want to piss him off. Expect much yelling once back at headquarters. Oh, by the way, ugh. Headquarters. I'd rather be back at Las Noches. At least that place was clean!"
"Deep breaths. Calm down. When the hell we leaving?" Nnoitra asked.
"Almost at once," Lupin answered. "We're just waiting for the all-clear."
"All is clear, nothing out there, quiet since the fucking dementors, let's damn well go."
"Your things, Harry," Szayel sighed, inspecting his nails.
"Let's damn well go as soon as I get my things."
"You know," Tonks sighed, tugging on her spiky hair. She was very persistent about coming up to his room with him and Szayel to help him pack. "I don't think purple's really my color. D'you two think it makes me look a bit peaky?"
"Yes," both answered blandly.
"I think so, too," she agreed before screwing up her face. A second later, her hair turned bubblegum pink.
"Hell to the no!" Nnoitra protested. "That is his color! You don't take it!"
"Her shade is actually a couple shades darker than mine, now calm down," Szayel chuckled, patting Nnoitra's arm.
He's right. It is a couple shades darker.
Looks the same to me.
Tonks was a bit more of a distraction than a help. She tried to magic all his things into his trunk, but they weren't organized, which made Szayel a bit upset. Then he went to clean it up. Then she found his Firebolt. He snatched it back with a 'No touchy' and put it next to his trunk. "Done yet?" he asked.
Szayel sighed. "For now!" he snorted dignifiedly as he slammed the trunk close. "Oh, I was hoping to draw it out. HQ is so…disgusting!"
"Clean freak," Nnoitra muttered, grabbing his trunk and leaving the bedroom. "How we ever get along…"
"You know exactly how," Szayel commented with a chuckle, following Nnoitra out of the room. "I believe it involved chains when we finally had enough of our dance."
Chains and whips excite him! Na-na-na, come on!
Bored, you are.
As soon as they were downstairs, Moody pulled him off to the side roughly, making Nnoitra complain about being manhandled, before the older man cast a Disillusionment Charm over him. Then they were all outside and Moody started going over their formations and procedure.
"Yeah, have fun with that," Nnoitra commented, mounting the broom. "Gabriel, get on."
"Harry, what are you doing?" Lupin asked carefully as the pink-haired boy sat on the broom behind Nnoitra and wrapped his arms around the taller teen's waist.
"I don't want to deal with your shit and Gabriel knows the way," Nnoitra shot back, already in the air. "See ya!"
"Wait a moment!" Moody yelled at the pair, but they were already gone.
"Pissing people off by the day?" Szayel asked as he watched everyone else try to catch up.
"It is so much fun!" Nnoitra laughed as his snowy white owl flew by him. "Hey, Teresa! Good time hunting?" The owl hooted at him then looked behind and hooted again. "Ah, stick close."
"That was completely reckless and irresponsible for you to fly off like that, boy!" Moody raged in a low voice at the uncaring Nnoitra, both inside the living room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Szayel was right, the place was filthy. "We were to be your guard so that no one tried to attack you while we brought you here! You were supposed to stay with us, in formation, following the path we take! Instead, you flew off! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"
"Hueco Mundo is more fun than you guys," Nnoitra commented dryly, knowing no one would know what he was talking about. "In case you hadn't noticed…I. Don't. Follow. Orders."
When will they realize this?
"Obviously," Moody scoffed before rushed footsteps were heard.
"Oh, Harry," Mrs. Weasley greeted him nervously. He smirked. She probably was thinking about the dragon from last year. Absently, he wondered how long everyone will be thinking of that. "Lovely to see you again. You're looking peaky, you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait until dinner, I'm afraid." She looked over at the group behind him. "He's just arrived, the meeting's started."
"I'll show Harry where he'll be sleeping, shall I?" Szayel offered with a half smile, taking Nnoitra's hand.
"Oh, I can still do that," the Weasley matriarch started, but Szayel waved her off.
"Nonsense, go to the meeting," he said, already leading Nnoitra upstairs. "He needs to…adjust."
Don't you sass me!
…I let you get away with too much.
The two briefly heard Molly muttering something, worrying about Szayel helping Nnoitra to adjust to anything. They ignored her and continued on down the hallway upstairs, passing by rows of house-elf heads. "Though the adults here think it's ridiculous, you and I are sharing a room. Colin is, unfortunately, sharing with that Ronald boy. If you want, you and I can share a bed and he can have the other."
"We'll get the bigger bed," Nnoitra pointed out with a smirk then whistled sharply.
A door swung open, but didn't hit the wall, before a blur shot out and stopped right in front of Nnoitra. "Sir!" Tesla greeted him. "I'm so glad to see you! We heard about the dementors! It's stupid what they're doing!"
"Breathe," Nnoitra stated firmly. Tesla inhaled deeply, held for a few seconds, then slowly exhaled. "Calm?"
"Very," the sandy-blonde replied. "Come on inside. I'm sure you have lots of questions and the more people to answer, the better. Besides, it may be fun if you yell at them."
"Hey, your damn brother here, too? I can only deal with so much crazy."
"No, he doesn't hang around you so they figured he's safe from anyone out to hurt you," Tesla replied with a shrug.
After putting his things away, Nnoitra was pulled into another room where Ron and Hermione were sitting, talking to each other lowly before noticing him. "Harry!" Hermione called out, running to him. He stopped her before she could hug him.
"Don't. Touch. Me." He gave her a slight push away. "Either of you."
Funny how you had little contact with these two last year and they act like it never happened.
Probably think I forgot about it and are taking advantage of that.
"Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione went on. "I know you must be furious at us. I know our letters were useless – but we couldn't tell you anything. Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got to tell us – the dementors! When we heard – and that Ministry hearing – it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations-"
"Oh, just shut the hell up already!" Nnoitra shouted, hands over his ears. "Damn it, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much! Damn it all to Aizen!"
"Why to Aizen?" Szayel asked, quirking an elegant eyebrow.
"Because Hell isn't enough," Nnoitra replied with a blank look. "Aizen's worse, hands down."
"Agreed," Szayel and Tesla said with nods of their heads.
"So what's been going on around here?" Nnoitra asked as Teresa landed on his shoulder. He reached up and started to pet the feathers on her chest.
"Well first off," Szayel sighed, dropping himself on the nearby bed. "This is the headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix. I've sent you letters about it. It's a secret organization that…?"
"Is fighting against Voldemort, yeah, yeah," Nnoitra snorted.
"You got to send him information and we couldn't?" Ron asked, jealousy evident in his voice.
Szayel smirked before pointing at the two of them. "Just because you two follow Dumbledore around like he is a god and you are his ever-so-loyal followers doesn't mean I do the same," he pointed out. "Of course I've sent him information. He gets angry otherwise. Restless. People end up getting killed when he's like that."
"Came close a couple times," Nnoitra admitted with a grin. "So, who's in it?"
"Quite a few people," Tesla replied this time.
"We've only met a handful of them," Ron went on. "About twenty, maybe."
"Dumbledore's in charge, naturally," Szayel commented with a roll of his eyes. "He's like Aizen on the light side."
"Shit," Nnoitra muttered.
That isn't good.
"Master Snape is in the Order, as well as the group who retrieved you, the Weasley parents and two eldest sons, the third eldest has been a bit of an asshole recently. Sirius Black is in, this is actually his family home."
"Will you stop already?" Hermione whispered harshly.
Szayel snorted. "He's going to find out one way or another, might as well be through us."
"Unfortunately, the Order won't let anyone under seventeen in because we're too young," Tesla pointed out. "Well, maybe Gabriel. He's allowed in, being out of school and all. And it is Snape's decision since he's the Master training him, thus his guardian while here. Otherwise, we don't know anything about Voldemort, where he is or what he's doing. Nothing."
"Not quite," Hermione corrected before Ron continued.
"Fred and George invented Extendable Ears," he explained. "Before Mum found them and went berserk. We got a good use out of them, though. We know some Order members are following known Death Eaters, keeping tabs on them, you know."
"Some of them are working on recruiting more people to the Order," Hermione added.
"And some of them are standing guard over something," Ron stated. "They're always talking about guard duty."
Are they really that stupid?
Looks like it.
Nnoitra, Tesla, and Szayel looked at each other then at him. "Me, you dumbass," Nnoitra pointed out. "Had guards tailing me all summer."
"You didn't notice before?" Szayel asked.
"Didn't bother before, they were all too fucking weak," he commented with a shrug. "If any of them were the enemy and tried something, give me three minutes. To hell with magic."
"What could you do?" Ron asked curiously.
"Snap a neck," Tesla started.
"Sever a spine," Szayel added.
"Beat them to death," Nnoitra finished.
"Anything goes with him," the former Octava chuckled.
Both Ron and Hermione paled dramatically, seeming to remember the dragon from last year. Suddenly, two loud cracks rang through the air. Fred and George looked around the room, a string of something flesh colored in their hands.
"Oh, hello, Harry," Fred greeted with a smile.
"We thought we heard you," George added with a smirk.
"You know, Harry, there are other ways than violence to relieve stress," Fred commented with a waggling finger. "Such as pranks."
"He's good," Nnoitra tried not to laugh, pointing towards Szayel, who playfully found the ceiling very interesting. "So you two passed your damn Apparation tests, huh?"
"With distinction," Fred replied.
"It would have taken you about thirty seconds longer to walk down the stairs," Ron grumbled.
"Time is galleons, little brother," the same twin commented. "Now shush. We're trying to hear what's going on downstairs. They're having a major meeting."
"Why not just ask Gabriel?" Tesla asked, looking towards the pink-haired teen. "He could attend and then tell us. Or maybe he has an idea as to what it's about."
"We tried," the twins stated in unison. "He wouldn't answer us."
"Colin, you know Gabriel," Nnoitra sighed heavily, sitting on the bed before leaning back and laying on it instead. "He won't talk to anyone he doesn't damn well have to. Babe?"
"They say it's major and Master Snape has attended this meeting, meaning he's reporting in from his secret position," Szayel stated with a smirk. "Even I do not know his true loyalty. See, Voldemort believes Snape is spying on Dumbledore for him, giving him information he approves of handing over. While Dumbledore believes Snape is spying on Voldemort for him, again giving information he approves of. He doesn't take me with him when he attends the Death Eater meetings, says it's too dangerous. So that raises the question, who is getting the important information?"
"Double spy agent, I hate those," Nnoitra sighed. "Can never trust them."
"Dumbledore trusts Snape, that should be enough," Hermione told him firmly, crossing her arms.
She cannot be that blind.
Yeah, she can.
"If Dumbledore jumped off a bridge, would you follow him?" Nnoitra asked. She gaped at him, trying to answer but seemed to struggle with it. "If he told you to suck his dick, because it was for the greater fucking good or whatever the hell he says, would you?"
"That's disgusting!" Hermione shrieked at him.
"Bet you would, though, from how blindly you follow that asshole," Nnoitra went on. "Yeah, the fucking light shines right out of his damn ass. He's a god!"
"Okay, you need a stress reliever," Szayel pointed out, fingers running through Nnoitra's long hair. "Colin, pack your things. You're moving to our room. Harry's orders. He and I will share a bed."
"You won't do anything while I'm in the room, will you?" Tesla asked.
"No promises," Szayel chuckled, standing up before grabbing Nnoitra's hand and dragging him up as well. "Give us an hour, though."
"Right," Tesla snorted, already getting his things together.
"Are they serious?" Hermione asked as the two left the room. "Really?"
Tesla looked at her blandly. "One thing you should know about Harry and Gabriel is that they will do whatever they want whenever they want. Though maybe not around certain people because those certain people have no sense of humor and do not appreciate their desk or beds being used by anyone other than them."
"You're joking," Ron accused.
"Nope," Tesla chirped. "Ask Alexander if you ever see him again. He's a victim."
Tonks tripped over something, resulting in a loud crash, which was then followed by a ranting scream from a portrait. "Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers-"
"Holy fucking shit, shut the hell up, you old bitch!" Nnoitra shouted back at the portrait, popping out of his room shirtless and hair messed up, his pants unbuttoned as well. The painted woman stared at him in shock. "If I have to listen to one more piece of shit coming out of your mouth, I will set fire to your unhappy ass and just put everyone out of your fucking misery! So shut the fuck up!"
She stared at him and he glared at her. Then Sirius came onto the unusual scene and closed the curtains. "Well, there's a first," Sirius commented. "Seems like you and my dear old mum will get along great."
"I'm burning her first chance I get," he commented, returning to his room to get Szayel to stop laughing.
"No complaints here," Sirius chuckled.
There are times when Nnoitra would want to socialize and be around others. Rare, but they do happen. This was not one of those times. The only comforts he had were Tesla at his right and Szayel at his left. He didn't care what Mundungus was talking about. Actually, as soon as he saw the man again, he threw his glass at him, which did cause a little bit of laughter and some panic.
He feels sorry for Sirius, but again, doesn't really care. That man should be enjoying his downtime instead of complaining about being cooped up. If he were outside running around, he would be in trouble. Nnoitra was quite content to point this out then not even continue the conversation when Sirius started complaining about his own summer. Also, he doesn't care about how the house cleaning is coming. He heard enough about it from Szayel.
Then Sirius broke the ice. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."
"Did," Nnoitra snorted, ignoring everyone else's reactions. "Gabriel's the only one with any information, but it was only on your little flaming chicken club."
No respect earned.
"Order of the Phoenix," Szayel corrected, sipping at his drink.
"Same damn difference," the tall teen commented with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, besides him, the only thing's I'm hearing is that everyone else is not allow in." He figured it was probably a good idea to not mention knowing that Snape is a double spy. It was known he is a spy, but that didn't mean there weren't others.
"And they're quite right," Molly Weasley stated with a huff. "You're too young."
Mentally, hell no!
"I think I was too fucking young to go after the damn Sorcerer's Stone, fight a fucking basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, bring down a at-the-time wanted criminal, and participate in that piece of shit Triwizard Tournament," Nnoitra pointed out with a smug grin. "Which was boring, by the way."
"Only to you," Szayel sighed, leaning against Nnoitra's shoulder.
"So I have a right," Nnoitra finished, crossing his arms and staring down anyone who even thought of defying him.
"You do deserve to know," Sirius agreed. "After all, you've been in that Muggle house with no news of anything-" He was cut off by the twins protesting. In the middle of it, he cut them off. "It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing. That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand-"
"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" Molly sharply commented. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"
"Which bit?" Sirius asked with fake politeness.
With a heavy sigh, Nnoitra rose to his feet. Szayel pulled away and watched curiously. "Listen up, you fuckers," he started lowly. "I am not polite. I don't follow orders. And I especially hate it when there is some kind of shit going on involving me that every other fucker is keeping from me! So start talking!"
"Calm yourself, Harry," Szayel soothingly spoke, hand on Nnoitra's arm. "Think of something else, if you must."
Would you prefer the piano?
"Harry, I understand you're quite upset about being in the dark," Remus said.
"How about you go crawl into a hole for a while and let everyone decide werewolf rights without letting you know anything when it could affect your future, then tell me that shit!" He dropped back into his seat and glared at everyone who would make eye contact. "I'm not amused by any of this bullshit going on. So spill whatever you can before I spill your guts."
"He'll do it, too," Tesla commented offhandedly.
"You're just too young, Harry," the Weasley matriarch went on.
"Bitch, I wasn't asking you, so shut the hell up," he growled at her. "I will silence you if I have to."
"Harry, there's no need for the attitude," Sirius sighed. "Ask away. Just remember, we don't have all the answers."
After much Weasley arguing, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were sent to bed. Tesla and Szayel stayed where they were, mainly because Nnoitra was on the verge of causing a slaughter and they are his own anchors to sanity. A heavy sighed escaped the former Quinta. "I don't give a damn where he is, but I do want to know this. What is Voldemort doing? He hasn't been killing, I can tell that much."
What kind of madman doesn't go running around killing everyone?
Only one kind that I can think of.
"That's the thing, Harry," Sirius started. "He isn't doing anything to bring attention to himself. He hasn't been killing or anything like that. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself at the moment. It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't come off quite the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."
"You basically were not meant to survive and Dumbledore was not supposed to know Voldemort came back as soon as he did," Szayel stated, cleaning some imaginary dirt from under his nails.
"And he's fucking scared of that old fucker," Nnoitra muttered.
"Harry, Dumbledore deserves a lot more respect than that," Remus reprimanded.
"Then he can earn it from me," Nnoitra growled. "Right now, I don't respect that asshole very much."
"Respect from him is impossible to get," Tesla pointed out.
"So what are his plans?" the tall teen continued on.
"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," Remus answered this time. "He believes that Voldemort wants to build up his army again."
I still have forty-seven points, Master. You now have thirty-nine.
"In the old days, he had huge numbers at his command," Sirius explained. "Witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of Dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well, they'll be just one group he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with just a handful of Death Eaters."
"Yeah, cause only a real badass would do that," Nnoitra snickered. "So that's what Dumbledore fucking thinks Voldemort's up to? You guys honestly believe that shit?"
"The sun shines out of Dumbledore's ass," Szayel whispered to him. "And like the insects that they are, they follow that light."
"His ideas normally turn out to be accurate," Lupin told him.
"Then what the fuck is Fudge doing about this shit? He sure as hell isn't listening to Dumbledore!"
"And that's the problem," Arthur Weasley finally spoke up. "Dumbledore."
"Fudge is frightened of him, you see," Tonks added.
"Seriously?" Nnoitra scoffed, crossing his arms and shifting in his seat.
"Well," Arthur said. "He's frightened by what Dumbledore's up to. You see, Fudge thinks that Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic."
Nnoitra stared at the balding redhead for a moment. "Is he fucking retarded?" he asked blandly. "Sounds retarded. How many times was he dropped on his damn head when he was a baby?"
A few of the adults took turns talking about how popular Dumbledore is with the community and why Fudge takes that as a threat, as well as Dumbledore being disrespected in the paper and him being kicked out of his seat in some important group. Then Sirius mentioned a weapon and Molly Weasley broke everything off.
As Nnoitra, Szayel, and Tesla sat in their room, Szayel broke the silence. "You don't suppose that weapon is like the Hogyoku?"
"Hell, I hope not," Nnoitra replied, laying on the bed before Szayel laid next to him, his head on the taller teen's chest. "I can't believe they don't think there's something out there that isn't worse than Avada Kedavra."
"They obviously never died before," Tesla sighed from his bed. "Imagine if they knew."
Nnoitra stared at the woman blankly. "You want me to do what?" he asked slowly.
"We need all the help we can get to make this house livable," she told him sternly. "Meaning everyone helps out."
She's kidding, right?
"Bullshit," he told her.
"You're asking him in the wrong manner," Szayel sighed. "Harry, darling? Would you come help me destroy some of these doxies? I don't feel like getting bit by a million tiny fangs filled with poison."
"I'm in!" Nnoitra replied.
With a smug grin, Szayel looked at the stunned Weasley woman. "You might as well keep that can, he'll use his hands," he told her, following after Nnoitra, his own can of doxy spray in his hand. "In the words of the ever-so-famous blood-thirsty lunatic, men kill shit and women clean house. Of course, he's a sexist."
When the doxies were roused from their hiding spot, most of the occupants were spraying away, paralyzing the little creatures and throwing them into a bucket, except for Fred and George. Those two were occasionally slipping a doxy into their pockets.
"Harry, perhaps you should use the Doxycide," Molly started as doxies swarmed to the only unarmed human.
"Where's the damn fun in that?" he asked, grabbing a doxy in midair. It tried to bite him, but he threw it into a wall. It hit with a loud thunk then fell onto the floor, twitching slightly. Szayel rolled his eyes before spraying a doxy that flew at his face.
"Do save a few for me," Szayel commented offhandedly. "I want to experiment with doxy venom."
Nnoitra shrugged, grabbing another one and throwing it on the ground before placing his foot over it. "Do they fucking need to be alive for that?"
Szayel looked at the struggling and panicking doxy. "Preferably, that way the ingredients are fresh."
Raising his foot off the doxy, which seemed to sigh in relief, he kicked it to the side. It tumbled along the floor until coming to a stop because of the table leg. Nnoitra snickered.
"He's right, you know," George stated in a low whisper. "Fred and I have been experimenting with doxy venom for our Skiving Snack-boxes."
"Your fucking what?" Nnoitra asked, throwing a doxy over his shoulder. He grinned when he heard it hit the nearby table. That little sucker bit him.
"Range of sweets to make you ill," the twin went on to explain. "Not seriously ill, mind you, just ill enough to get you out of a class when you feel like it. Fred and I have been developing them this summer. They're double-ended, color-coded chews. If you eat the orange half of the Puking Pastilles, you throw up. Moment you've been rushed out of the lesson for the hospital wing, you swallow the purple half-"
"'-which restore you to full fitness, enabling you to pursue the leisure activity of your own choice during an hour that would otherwise have been devoted to unprofitable boredom'," Fred finished for his brother. "That's what we're putting in the adverts, anyway. But they still need a bit of work. At the moment, our testers are having a bit of trouble stopping puking long enough to swallow the purple end."
"Testers?" Tesla asked this time.
"Us," Fred answered him. "We take turns. George did the Fainting Fancies – we both tried the Nosebleed Nougat-"
"Mum thought we'd been dueling," George snickered.
After everything they pull, she thinks they duel?
Shit happens with these two. She just believes what she wants.
"So the damn joke shop you guys got planned that Colin told me about," Nnoitra muttered. "Still on?" He grinned widely.
"Well, we haven't had a chance to get premises yet," Fred replied even lower as Molly Weasley wiped her brow with her scarf before returning to work. "So we're running it as a mail-order service at the moment. We put advertisements in the Daily Prophet last week."
"Mum hasn't got a clue," George pointed out. "She won't read the Daily Prophet anymore, 'cause of it telling lies about you and Dumbledore."
"What fucking lies?" Nnoitra growled lowly, squeezing his struggling doxy a little too tightly.
"Let it breathe, dear," Szayel sighed, patting Nnoitra's arms. "And their so-called lies really aren't too far from the truth. You have a nasty temper, you like to fight, and thus are violent, the only thing they are lying about is you doing everything just for attention."
Nnoitra blinked a couple times then shrugged. "They can all go to hell," he commented, dropping the doxy into Szayel's hand. "Got enough?"
"Yes!" Szayel chirped, bouncing on his feet.
Nnoitra stared at the muttering mass of old house elf. Tesla tilted his head in confusion at it. Szayel smirked and waited to see the taller teen's reaction to this little thing.
"…Smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my Mistress's house, oh my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do…"
Holy shit, what is that?!
"Hello, Kreacher," Fred loudly greeted, closing the door with a snap.
The house-elf froze in its tracks, stopped muttering, then gave an obviously fake start of surprise. "Kreacher did not see Young Master," he croaked out then muttered. "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."
Rude is what it is.
Look who's talking.
"Sorry?" George spoke up. "Didn't catch that last bit."
"Kreacher said nothing," the elf replied. "And there's its twin, unnatural beasts they are…and there's the two Mudbloods, standing there bold as brass, and the half-breed like he belongs, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name, what is he doing here, Kreacher doesn't know…"
"Shut the fuck up, you are annoying," Nnoitra scoffed, walking up to the house-elf and crouching down in front of it. "Want to know a little secret?" His hand shot out and he grabbed the elf by his throat before rising to full height. "Call Colin a Mudblood or Gabriel a half-breed again, I will snap your damn neck and put you out of your fucking misery after making you watch that portrait of your bitching mistress burn before your very eyes. Do I make myself clear, you piece of shit?"
Kreacher nodded before he was suddenly dropped. The elf looked up at Nnoitra in fear.
"You were the one that told me to be proud of what I am," Tesla pointed out calmly. "And Gabriel's had no problem with it, either."
"Doesn't mean you let others insult you," Nnoitra told him firmly. "Anyone insults you, you beat the shit out of them. Clear?"
"Yes, sir!" Tesla replied sharply.
"Wait, what about him insulting Hermione and the rest of us!" Ron exclaimed.
"I don't fight your fucking battles and I don't give a shit about you two," the former Quinta pointed out before jabbing his finger to the wins. "Them, they're cool. And they don't let words hurt them like pussies."
"What are you doing, Kreacher?" a familiar voice asked before the group looked over to see Sirius.
"Being an insulting little shit, which I just straightened out," Nnoitra answered before the elf could then he glanced down at Kreacher. "Right, Kreacher?"
"Of course, Young Master!" Kreacher answered as he got back to his feet. "Kreacher only lives to serve the most noble and ancient house of Blacks-"
"- And it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," Sirius pointed out calmly.
"Master always liked his little joke," Kreacher said, bowing deeply before continuing on. "Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart-"
Nnoitra rolled his eyes and grabbed the creature by his scuff and held him up to eye level. "Sirius is included," he stated firmly. The elf nodded before being dropped again. "Like training a fucking numeros."
Nah, they were harder.
He woke early Thursday morning, Szayel running his hands through the tall teen's black locks. "Molly was kind enough to iron your best clothes for today," he whispered so he wouldn't wake Tesla, who slept on the other side of the room. "I can work with your hair, if you like."
"Sure," the former Quinta yawned. Even half asleep, he knew better than to defy Szayel. He arched his back until it popped then straightened out and sat up. "How long have you been up?" he asked.
"About ten minutes," Szayel answered, grabbing a comb and running it through Nnoitra's hair. "There's a group downstairs in the kitchen. You're supposed to go with Arthur Weasley to his work today."
"Fuck," Nnoitra groaned.
"It'll be fine," the pink-haired reassured as he pulled Nnoitra's untangled hair back and started to tie a black ribbon around it to make a low ponytail. "It's not like they'll give you a trial in front of a full court."
"You just jinxed it," Nnoitra muttered.
By the time they reached the room where he was to having his hearing, Nnoitra was anything but amused. He did not enjoy the train ride, too much noise. He did not like the telephone booth that he was crammed into with Mr. Weasley. He did spent a good few minutes in Arthur's office, looking through a magazine, before a paper plane flew in and told them that the time and location of his hearing had changed. So now they were a few floors down and several minutes late.
Which was pointed out as soon as he entered the room. "You're late," the cold voice of a man echoed through the silent room.
"Yeah, about that-" Nnoitra started, but was cut off.
"Shut the fuck up!" he shouted back, stunning the crowd. "First of all, tell me this. Who the hell in their right mind sends a message five minutes before the hearing's supposed starting time actually starts? Are you trying to piss me off and make me fucking late? Seriously! Owl gets sent ten minutes before we were told a damn thing and that was five minutes after we were supposed to be here! Are you all idiotic assholes?!"
The large group was still stunned silent. "Well, we can't say there was no warning of his temper or his language," a calm woman's booming voice pointed out. "Mr. Potter, if you will please have a seat. Forgive us for not sending the message sooner, we assumed your guide would Apparate you here."
"You know what?" Nnoitra asked, walking over to his chair and dropping into it. "Muggles have a nice saying about 'assume'. It makes an ass out of you and me. I don't like people making an ass of me. I can do that shit by myself. Besides, shit like that should be sent twenty-four hours ahead of time. Helps with prepping."
Fudge, who was seating at the front of fifty people dressed in plum-colored robes with a silver W on the left-hand side of their chest, looked down at him disgustingly, seeming to get over his shock at the teen's outburst.
"Oh fuck, the idiot's in charge?" Nnoitra exclaimed, throwing a hand towards Fudge. "Well, break the wand now and send me off, because he sure as hell isn't going to be fair about this since he hates my fucking guts! Seriously, you're all going to listen to this asshole?"
"Be silent," Fudge ordered him. Nnoitra flipped him both middle fingers with a grin and leaned back in his chair. "Since the accused is present – finally – let us begin. Are you ready?"
"Yes, sir," a familiar voice responded. Nnoitra looked over to see the third Weasley son, Percy, sitting at the end of the bench.
"Two fuckers who hate my guts, fun," the teen muttered lowly.
Master, just this once, be nice.
Do you want to be thrown into prison?
They'll just kick me back out after a week.
"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," Fudge started before Nnoitra tuned him out by looking around the room.
Somewhere in the middle of Fudge talking, another broke in. "Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," the aged man said as he strode to Nnoitra.
"Shit just hit the fucking fan," Nnoitra chuckled. He didn't like Dumbledore, reminded him of Aizen too much, but he wasn't arguing about this. Dumbledore was still powerful amongst the wizards and he knows many still support him despite what the paper says.
"Ah," Fudge seemed disconcerted about this development. "Dumbledore. Yes. You – er – got our – er – message that the time and – er – place of the hearing had been changed, then?"
"Judging from your reaction, you fuckers didn't even send it," Nnoitra pointed out.
"Now, now, Harry, there is no proof of that," Dumbledore told him. "However, I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done."
Harm is done. They're trying to lower your chances any way they can!
Really not worried about it.
Dumbledore conjured a nice, soft chair for himself and sat down, the Wizengamot muttering amongst themselves.
A little deterred but gaining confidence as he went on, Fudge went through the charges before questioning the bored teenager. Whom, to the minister's surprise, didn't seem to care about his predicament.
"You are Harry James Potter, of Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?"
"No, I'm the Muffin Man from Drury Lane," Nnoitra answered with a straight face.
"I don't know what is going on in that head of yours, boy, but this is a serious matter and will be taken seriously!" Fudge yelled at him.
"I'd like to claim harassment, his yelling hurts me," Nnoitra announced, raising a hand. "Yay or nay?"
"Enough!" Fudge shouted again. "Answer! Are you Harry James Potter of –"
"Considering how many people know who the hell I am just by looking at my fucking forehead, you should know the answer anyway," Nnoitra pointed out. "Just goes to show, you're an damn idiot."
"Harry, please," Dumbledore spoke softly. "Do cooperate."
"With great displeasure," Nnoitra growled at him. "Fine! Yes, I'm Harry fucking Potter! I have a scar on my forehead! I have no parents! I'm a violent asshole who just wants to kill you all because you're pissing me off! Happy?"
…You are insane.
Nnoitra answered the list of questions and got angrier whenever he was cut off from giving his full answer. Then the short conversation of his Patronus and finally, Dumbledore announcing he had a witness. Arabella Figg came in, gave her story, and then was dismissed. The Fudge tried to say the story was a lie because dementors just couldn't be in a Muggle area and coming across the only wizard in the area. Too convenient. Fudge and Dumbledore argued about whether the dementors were still in ministry control or not before the witch to Fudge's right leaned forward, out of the shadows.
"Holy shit! Kill it with fire!" Nnoitra yelled, staring at the witch in shock while trying to stumble out of his seat.
"Excuse me?" she spoke with a fluttery, girlish tone, way too high-pitched for a woman her age.
"Fuck! It talks! It has gained intelligence! Quick, burn it to hell before it takes over the entire world with it's equally ugly minions!"
"That is enough out of you, boy!" Fudge yelled loudly. "One more outburst and I will place the Silencing Charm on you!"
"Can break it," Nnoitra pointed out with a grin. "Easy."
"Now, the Chair recognized Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," Fudge announced.
"I can believe the chair recognizing her fat ass," Nnoitra commented.
"Mr. Potter, you were warned! This is your last chance!"
"Objection! He's threatening me!"
Would it bother you?
No. Gives me a reason to beat his ass and claim self-defense.
"We are familiar with clause seven, thank you very much!" Fudge snapped at Dumbledore, their battle starting to gain fire again, though Dumbledore was playing well enough to not get burned.
"Of course you are," Dumbledore courteously agreed. "Then we are in agreement that Harry's use of the Patronus Charm in these circumstances falls precisely into the category of exceptional circumstances it describes?"
"If there were dementors, which I doubt-"
"You doubt everything," Nnoitra commented.
"Harry, please, do remain silent. You all have heard from an eyewitness. If you still doubt her truthfulness, call her back, question her again. I am sure she will not object."
"I – that – not –" Fudge fiddled with the papers in front of him. "It's – I want this over with today, Dumbledore!"
"But naturally, you would not care how many time you heard from a witness, if the alternative was a serious miscarriage of justice."
"Serious miscarriage, my hat!" Fudge roared. "Have you ever bothered to tot up the number of cock-and-bull stories this boy has come out with, Dumbledore, while trying to cover up his flagrant misuse of magic out of school? I suppose you've forgotten the Hover Charm he used three years ago-"
"Fucking house elf named Dobby who used to work for Lucius Malfoy but came to warn me that my damn second year would be very dangerous and tried to stop me from going," Nnoitra explained quickly, yet clearly, so Fudge could not interrupt him again. "True story."
"You see?" Fudge bellowed. "A house-elf! In a Muggle house! I ask you-"
"The house elf in question is currently in the employ of Hogwarts School," Dumbledore told him smoothly. "I can summon him here in an instant to give evidence if you wish."
Dumbledore has more points right now.
How many does Fudge have?
Dumbledore wins by default then.
"Laws can be changed!" Fudge savagely stated.
"Of course they can," Dumbledore replied while inclining his head. "And you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!"
Ice for the burn?
Does this count as a burn?
Getting inconspicuously chewed out for something so obviously stupid? Yes, it counts as a burn.
"As far as I am aware, however," Dumbledore went on. "There is no law yet in place that says this court's job is to punish Harry for every bit of magic he has ever preformed. He has been charged with a specific offense and he has presented his defense. All he and I can do now is to await your verdict."
The Wizengamot talked, arguing or agreeing with each other.
"I'm bored," Nnoitra commented offhandedly.
"Patience, Harry," Dumbledore told him. "Their decision will affect your future."
Finally, the whispering stopped and faced forward. Nnoitra lazily stared back at them. "Those in favor of clearing the witness of all charges?" Madam Bones asked with her booming voice. More than half raised their hands. "And those in favor of conviction?" Fudge and half a dozen others rose their hands.
Fudge looked around then lowered his hand. "Very well, very well," he stated. "Cleared of all charges!"
"Thank you so much for wasting my time because you're a dumbass, Fudge," Nnoitra commented, getting to his feet and keeping pace with Dumbledore.
As soon as he entered Grimmauld Place and the good news was told, everyone was either relieved or celebrating in their own way. The twins and Ginny were dancing and chanting, "He got off!" repeatedly.
"I knew it!" Ron exclaimed. "You always get away with stuff!"
"They were bound to clear you," Hermione stated. "There was no case against you, none at all…"
"Excuse me, since when have you shit-heads been my friends?" Nnoitra growled at them as Szayel tucked himself under Nnoitra's arm. "Hey, babe. How you doing?"
"I get the distinct impression that the only reason you were cleared of charges is because of Dumbledore," he commented. "I bet you were cussing and smart-mouthing through the entire thing."
"Oh dear Aizen, there was this hideous creature in there," Nnoitra started with wide eyes. "It was just so ugly, like a large toad. And it spoke! It sounded like Loly or Menoly. No, worse! Like Neliel!"
"Who?" Ron and Hermione both asked.
Szayel patted the taller teen's chest. "There, there, it's gone now," he playfully assured.
Tesla came running into the room, startling the two teenage boys into ceasing their activity. "Sorry to interrupt, I know you get mad, sir, but you have to hear this!" Tesla started quickly.
Nnoitra braced himself on his elbows as Szayel draped an arm over his sweaty forehead. "What the hell is it?" he hissed.
"Hermione and Ron were just named prefects!" the younger teen announced.
Both teens stared at him with wide eyes. "Fuck," was all Nnoitra said. "Can't get away with shit now."
"Would you let them?" Szayel asked.
"Hell no," Nnoitra snickered. "Tesla, get the fuck out. Now."
"Yes, sir!" Tesla slammed the door closed and ran down the hall, passing by Molly Weasley coming up the stairs.
Nnoitra ignored most of the dinner since everyone was talking about Ron being prefect and how they expected Nnoitra to get the position, considering everything he's been through.
"You're really not upset?" Szayel asked then whispered. "Being a prefect is like being an Espada. There are only eight, but if you count Head Boy and Girl, that's ten.
"I don't need a badge or a number to know I'm stronger than any of these assholes," Nnoitra told him firmly. "I really don't give a fuck about all this shit."
"A female ranks higher than you right now," Tesla pointed out, thinking that would get a rise out of him.
"Only in brains," Nnoitra scoffed. "I can kick her ass six ways to Sunday."
The train was crowded, as it is every year. Ron and Hermione left to go to the prefect's cabin, not that Nnoitra really cared. He still had Tesla. Szayel had to leave ahead of time with Snape and wait at the school for the rest of the students. There was much debate over the matter, but Nnoitra eventually calmed down when Szayel pointed out it was only a few hours instead of a few weeks.
The only compartment they could find partially empty, mainly because of Ginny (who they can't get rid of), held a single blonde girl, Tesla's age by the looks of her. Ginny sat next to the blonde girl while Nnoitra and Tesla took the seat across from them. Neville, who had joined them on their hunt for a compartment, sat next to the young Weasley girl.
"You're Harry Potter," the girl, Luna Lovegood, pointed out.
"No shit," Nnoitra muttered, leaning his head back.
Tesla chuckled softly. Luna looked between him and Neville. "I don't know who you two are," she stated.
"Colin Creevey," Tesla introduced himself with a slight nod.
"I'm nobody," Neville murmured.
Tesla barely heard Nnoitra mutter 'weakling'. "No, you're not," Ginny told him firmly. "Neville Longbottom – Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," Luna recited lightly, raising her upside-down magazine high enough to hide her face.
"I didn't think I would ever meet anyone who was as social as Harry," Tesla commented with a smirk, earning a swift kick from the tall teen.
For a while the only sound heard was the train rattling as it went onward. Nnoitra stared out the window, watching the gray clouds that seemed to suddenly show up in the sky.
"Oh, guess what I got for my birthday?" Neville started, digging into his bag.
"Don't give a flying fuck," Nnoitra scoffed, still staring out the window.
Neville fumbled around with his items before finally pulling out a gray cactus covered in boils instead of spikes. Tesla stared at it curiously, then wrinkled his nose and back away. Nnoitra just covered his own nose.
"Mimbulus mimbletonia," the other teen proudly named the strange plant. "It's really, really rare. I don't know if there's one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts, even. I can't wait to show it to Professor Sprout. My great-uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I'm going to see if I can breed from it."
"Holy hell, think of the children!" Nnoitra exclaimed.
Tesla gave him a bland look. "Your mind scares me," he commented.
Good, he'll stay out.
I won't. It's fun in here.
Get the hell out, Verruga!
But it's so nice! I like the forest scenery! Tesla's mind is mainly of a savanna. Why's that tree pink?
That's the Szayel Tree. No touchy. Master gets pissed.
What doesn't piss him off?
"So does it do anything?" Tesla warily asked, looking at the pulsating plant with hidden disgust.
Neville jerked his startled gaze from Nnoitra to Tesla in a split second. "Huh? Oh! Loads of stuff!" he replied happily. "It's got an amazing defensive mechanism – hold Trevor for me…"
Within a few seconds, Tesla was holding Trevor, a quill was in Neville's hand, and he poked the plant. Green slime shot out of every boil on the thing, hitting nearly everyone. Luna's magazine was hit, but she wasn't. Tesla received a face full of it, Ginny blocked her face, though a lot ended up on her head, and Nnoitra got some on his side and stomach. Neville's torso and face were also hit with the stinking slime.
"The hell is wrong with you?!" Nnoitra shouted, trying to wipe the green off of him. "Damn! This shit is fucking disgusting!"
Tesla spat out whatever amount went into his mouth onto the floor as Neville apologized. Ginny cast a quick spell and the Stinksap was gone.
The door opened to reveal Draco Malfoy with his usual goons behind him. "Fuck, it's Blondie," Nnoitra muttered, cracking an eye open to glare then closed his eyes again.
"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," Malfoy taunted with a smirk. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which mean that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."
"And I, unlike you, can easily kick your sorry ass and don't respond to pathetic as hell threats real well," the tall teen scoffed as he got to his feet. "I, unlike you, don't need a fucking title to get my way. I, unlike you, am not some weak, pathetic, sniveling little coward who hides behind his whorish mommy and asshole of a daddy whenever the going gets tough. And for you to basically say I am is a fucking insult I will not tolerate. So fuck off!" He grabbed Malfoy by the throat and shoved him into the hall, slamming the door closed and dropping back into his seat.
Tesla stared at him then looked around the compartment at the other stunned teens. "Raise your hand if you saw that coming!" he announced, raising his own hand. Luna was the only other one to do so. And not that anyone else could see, but so did Verruga and Santa Teresa.
"Who's that?" he heard the bitch ask as the new students entered the Hall.
He glanced up then did a double take, his mouth wide open and his eyes staring in confusion. "The fucking hell is she doing here?" he asked out loud.
"You know her?" Tesla asked, watching as the Sorting hat started its song. "What a monstrosity. Too much…pink."
"Gabriel pulls it off damn good," Nnoitra commented. "Her? No. Just…no. She was at the hearing. From how buddy-buddy she was with Fucker Fudge, she's probably sucking his dick."
Hermione stared at him in shock this time. "How can you say such things?!" she exclaimed in shock.
Nnoitra shrugged. "Easy. I call it like I see it."
A little too easily.
"So if she's working for Fudge," Tesla stopped Hermione from arguing. "What's she doing here?"
Nnoitra narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips before smirking. "Fucking infiltration and inner sabotage," he pointed out with a nod. "Yeah, sounds right."
"That's ridiculous," Hermione scoffed.
Both Nnoitra and Tesla looked at each other before her and said in unison, "Not really."
Dumbledore rose as the feast ended, smile beaming and eyes twinkling. Nnoitra gagged, earning a concealed snicker from Szayel, who was seated by Snape. He started off his speech with the usual warnings of the forest and Filch, then introduction.
"We have had two changes is staffing this year, as well as a additional student for one of our professors," Dumbledore stated. "First of all, we are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons. I would also like to introduce Professor Snape's apprentice, Gabriel Ranimer, who will be staying at our school for the duration of his apprenticeship. We are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." There was a polite applause, though unenthusiastic. "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on –"
He stopped and turned to look at Umbridge, who was standing instead of sitting, not that it was easily noticed. She let out a 'hem, hem' after another moment of silence, making it clear she wanted to make a speech. Dumbledore looked taken aback, then sat down and stared at her like there was nothing to do but listen to her talk. Some of the other teachers were not even bothering to hide their shock and anger at the woman interrupting the headmaster. No teacher had ever done it, it was just disrespectful.
"Thank you, Headmaster," the woman simpered. "For those kind words of welcome."
"You're not welcome!" Nnoitra yelled out. "Get the hell off the stage!"
Seeming to ignore the loud teen, she went on with another 'hem, hem'. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"
"No one's happy to see your fucking ugly face! Get the hell out!"
"Harry, stop it," Hermione hissed at him since Ron and Tesla were too busy snickering.
"Fuck off," Nnoitra told her lowly. He noticed that no one, besides the know-it-all bitch, was stopping him from his shouting.
"Hem, hem," Umbridge cleared her throat a little more loudly, trying to ignore Nnoitra again. "I am very much looking forwards to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"
"Saying that to a bunch of underage kids makes you sound like a fucking pedophile!"
"Harry! Shush!" Hermione scowled him again.
"Well, it was certainly illuminating," Hermione stated as Dumbledore rose to finish his own speech.
"Rude bitch," Nnoitra muttered then looked at Hermione. "And you're a crazy bitch for liking that at all."
"You're rude," Hermione shot back. "And I said illuminating, not enjoyable."
"How so?" Tesla scoffed.
"How about 'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'? Or 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'?"
"Well, what does that mean?" Ron impatiently asked.
"Means I'm right and she was damn wrong, so point for me, let's go to bed," Nnoitra stated as he got to his feet once Dumbledore was done. Ron still looked confused. "Fucking ministry is interfering with the damn school. Through Umbitch."
Many of the boys in the dorm were talking about Seamus's mother not wanting him to come back to school because of Nnoitra and Dumbledore. Tesla and Nnoitra were just sitting on the bed with the younger teen running a comb through Nnoitra's long hair. It was at the length it was when he was an Espada.
"You're mother is a dumb bitch," Nnoitra commented off-handedly. "I only admit to being violent!"
Really? That's all?
"Don't you have a go at my mother," Seamus snapped at him.
With a glare and a low growl, Nnoitra stood up and stared Seamus down. "I'll have a 'go' at anyone I want," he pointed out. "A little shit like you can't do a damn thing. I bet you can't even hurt me before I throw you out the fucking window."
Seamus was pale, but put up his fists anyway. "I won't let you have a go at my mother, Potter!" he shakily proclaimed.
Nnoitra quirked an eyebrow, looking over to the window then back to Seamus. "Do you really want to see whether or not I can throw you out that window before you even hit me?" he asked with a wide, shit-eating grin. "I'd be glad as hell to test it."
The boy turned paler and swallowed loudly, lowering his fists and backing away.
Nnoitra scoffed. "Tch. Fucking weak, pathetic coward."
Nnoitra was actually looking forward to Snape's lesson, if only because of his pink-haired lover. As soon as he entered the room and found a seat, Szayel was in his lap, arm around Nnoitra's neck and playing with his hair.
"Lovely locks you have, my dear," he commented, twirling a strand of black hair around his index finger. "Just like before."
Nnoitra chuckled, wrapping his arm around the older (yet shorter) teen's waist. "Been trying hard to grow it out like this," he stated with a low growl into Szayel's hand. "May get Colin to trim it to keep it this way."
Szayel chuckled. "I like it long," he commented with a sly grin. "And it's so… thick. I love playing with it."
"You two are insufferable," Hermione said as she sat down.
"I'm talking about his hair," Szayel pointed out. "Not whatever it is you're thinking off."
"Right," the girl scoffed.
Szayel rolled his eyes. "I can see why you're a sexist sometimes," he stated as Snape entered the room.
"Settle down," Snape ordered as the door closed behind him. "Gabriel, get off of Potter's lap and start working on that assignment I gave you earlier."
"Sir, I already finished a majority of the potion," Szayel replied with half-lidded eyes. "It is at the stage where I must allow it to boil for at least thirty minutes, then I may add in my powdered dragon scales. It has been twenty-three minutes and forty-eight seconds since then."
Nnoitra looked down at him curiously. "The fuck you making?" he asked.
"Nothing you need to worry about," the pink-haired teen told him with a pat on the head. "But I should get off your lap so you can concentrate on your own assignment. It's a difficult one. Well, not for me, but for you… you always did prefer the field."
"Well, good afternoon!" Umbridge chirped when the whole class took their seats. Some students returned the greeting in mumbles. "Tut, tut. That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the class said in unison, but Nnoitra just leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling.
Her ability to ignore him seemed to have developed a bit overnight or she just didn't notice as she smiled sweetly to the class. "There, now," she said. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
Two can play the ignore game.
Just some fun!
He didn't pull out his quill and twirled his wand around his fingers, kicking his feet up onto the table and leaning his chair back until he was balancing on the back two legs.
Umbridge turned around from writing 'Defense Against the Dark Arts, A Return to Basic Principles' on the board and stared at him for a moment. "Mr. Potter?" she called to him. "Is there a problem?"
"You," he answered plainly.
She turned a little pink in the face, but continued on with her lesson. When she asked the students if they had their books and received only murmurs in response. She asked again.
"Yes, Professor Umbitch!" Nnoitra exclaimed loudly as the class was forced to repeat their answer, though was once again ignored. After being instructed to read, Umbridge ignored the hand that immediately flew into the air. Nnoitra stared at the know-it-all bitch (as he loved to call Hermione) in shock. She didn't even open her book.
It's the end of days.
Perhaps we should commit suicide? We may make it to Hueco Mundo.
Good plan. Where's a knife?
Eventually, over half the class were watching Hermione before Umbridge seemed to believe she couldn't ignore her anymore. "Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" Umbridge asked with a smile.
"Not about the chapter, no," Hermione replied, lowering her hand.
"Well, we're reading just now," Umbridge pointed out.
"No we're not," Nnoitra scoffed, looking around the room. "Seems to me a lot of these shits think watching the bitch over there hold up her hand more interesting than some fucking book."
The woman inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled then addressed Hermione again. "If you have any other queries we can deal with them at the end of the class."
"I've got a query about your course aims," Hermione told her.
"And your name is-" Umbridge left for the girl to end.
"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," the old woman told her with determined sweetness.
Nnoitra gagged very loudly. Everyone watched Umbridge for her reaction, which was another slow sigh.
"Well I don't," Hermione bluntly stated. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."
The class looked over at the board, but Nnoitra grinned. "Using defensive spells?" Umbridge repeated in amusement. "Why, I can't imagine any situation in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during my class?"
"If you're the one attacking, yeah," Nnoitra cut Hermione off. "If someone is going to fly in through the fucking window on a damn broomstick, then yeah. Face it, bitch. There's tons of shit out there that these assholes aren't prepared for. And it looks to me that you, Umbitch, aren't planning on helping them with that. Bullshit!"
Umbridge's sweet façade was more fake than ever. "Hand, Mr. Potter. And I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school," she said, her mouth stretched in a unconvincing smile. "But you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention extremely dangerous half-breeds."
I don't like this woman.
"Fucking bitch!" Nnoitra yelled at her, getting to his feet. He happened to like Lupin. "He's the best fucking teacher we ever had in this fucking class!" The class agreed with him.
"Hand, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge sang to him. "And sit back down. As I was saying – you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day-"
Really don't like her.
"You're fucking delusional!" Nnoitra shouted, still standing. Umbridge seemed to be stunned into silence from his tirade. He tends to make that happen a lot. "You're trying to brainwash these fucking idiots into thinking like you do! It's bullshit! You're bullshit! There's a shitload of things out there that would happily kill anyone in this room! And you just want us to, what? Study theories and hope for the best? You're a dumbass, ugly as hell, moronic, insufferable, brainwashing bitch!"
"Mr. Potter, that will be enough out of you!" the woman shot back, making the class turn their heads to her. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your outburst."
"Oh, that really bothers me, bitch," he snorted. The class looked back at him. "Either you're a real dumbass, or you're delusional."
"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter," Umbridge told him calmly. The class kept moving their heads like watching a tennis match. In a way, it was.
Is she crazy?
"Oh yeah?" Nnoitra chuckled, shaking his head.
"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?"
"Lots," he growled. "I can think of so many, it will blow your mind faster than you blowing Fudge's cock." The class gasped at his comment as Umbridge blanched at it. "Tainted spirits hunting for young, innocent souls to devour just to fill an endless void of hunger inside of them. Power-hungry Grim Reapers who would gladly use whatever they can to make you their fucking minion or their victim. Even everyday creatures that run around in that very forest out there. Compared to the shit that is out there, the newly resurrected Voldemort is child's play."
"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge triumphantly yelled with a smile. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office."
"I'm bringing a camera and a recorder, so if you start trying to molest me in any way, I got enough proof to throw you out on your fat ass," he chuckled. "You think every day things like points and detentions bug me? You don't know the shit I've gone through. Even Voldemort is nothing compared to survival. A chance at survival you seem happy to deny these assholes!"
Umbridge went to her desk and wrote something down before holding out a small pink scroll. "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear," she sweetly ordered him.
"Fuck you," he chuckled with a wide grin. "I don't listen to your sorry ass. I don't do whatever the fuck you tell me to do. Want me to do something? Fucking make me."
"Mr. Potter, please come here," she tried again.
"Umbitch, when you do something smart and useful, maybe I will," he taunted her. "So far, you're done nothing but spew shit from your mouth and your ass."
"Mr. Potter, come up here and take this note to Professor McGonagall," Umbridge ordered more firmly, but still tried to make it sound sweet.
"Bring that to me and I just might," he challenged her with a grin.
Can you believe she did that?
It took all the fun away.
Well, hopefully what you said will sink into the students' heads, at least.
They know that they're too scared to say shit, but I open my mouth and the truth falls out.
So do perverted thoughts and trouble.
Nnoitra stopped in front of the door to McGonagall's office and pushed it open, not even bothering to knock. The stern woman looked up at the uncaring teen in shock. "Mr. Potter, why aren't you in class?"
"Umbitch levitated this note to me and told me to go see you," he told her, holding out the pink scroll with his index finger and thumb.
"And you listened?" McGonagall asked in surprise, taking the scroll.
"I tried to make her bring it to me instead of me going to her," he explained with a shrug. "And besides, I don't like that bitch. I'll take any chance I can to get the fuck out of her classroom. Can't I ditch it like I did with Divination?"
"Unfortunately no, Mr. Potter," the professor answered as she read the scroll. "Is all this true?"
"I couldn't read it," he pointed out. "She sealed it."
"Did you shout at Professor Umbridge, calling her disrespectful names and using profanity against her?"
He stared at the woman blankly. "It's me," he scoffed. "Do you really expect anything different?"
She sighed heavily. "Have a biscuit, Potter," she instructed, surprising herself that she was rewarding him for his bad behavior. Without a word of protest, Nnoitra grabbed a ginger newt and chewed on it. "Potter, you need to be careful."
"Why?" he scoffed.
"Potter, use your common sense! You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting." The bell rang, signaling the end of classes. "It says here she's given you detention every evening this week starting tomorrow."
The tall teen snorted. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. "I'm so fucking scared," he sarcastically commented with a roll of his eyes.
The sticks…they live!
He also resisted the urge to punch Pansy Parkinson in the mouth for her very shrill shriek.
Wonder where Hagrid went…
"Good evening, Mr. Potter," Umbridge greeted with a smile, one Nnoitra didn't like.
"Keep at least ten feet from me and we won't have a damn problem," he told her firmly.
Ignoring his comment, she pointed to a small table draped in lace. He gagged loudly. The whole place looked worse than anything he could ever imagine, and he can imagine a lot. "Well, sit down," she told him.
"Well, go fuck yourself," he replied, grabbing the lace tablecloth and balling it up. Before she could stop him, he threw it into her fireplace. "Note, I don't tolerate girly-girl shit. Now I will sit." He dropped himself onto the chair and kicked his legs up onto the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "By the way, I'm supposed to be at tryouts since I am the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I will not be here Friday."
"Oh no!" she told him. "Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for being so disrespectful and spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you will come here at five o'clock tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday, too, and you will do your detentions as planned."
"Keep this in mind, I'm only here to find some way to get your happy ass kicked out," he pointed out. "If I didn't want to come here, then I wouldn't fucking be here. Ask anyone."
"You will be here every night for the next week at five o'clock," she told him firmly.
"You will die a horrible death when I rip your fucking throat out," he chuckled, leaning his head back. "Let's get this shit done and over with. I got a frisky scientist waiting for me."
Being raised in the wizarding world, Umbridge most likely did not know what a scientist was. "You are going to write lines for me, Mr. Potter," she told him sweetly. He scoffed, dropping his head until his chin hit his chest. "Not with your quill, though. You're going to use a rather special one of mine. Here you are."
She held out a long, thin black quill with an extra sharp tip. Curious, Nnoitra took it, spinning it between his fingers.
"I want you to write 'I must respect my teacher's authority, not tell lies, and be polite.'"
"How many times?" he grumbled, removing his feet from the table. This quill didn't look right. Now that he thought about it, he remembered seeing on in Gringotts. A wizard was signing a form, but there was no inkpot near him. Now that he thought about it, Umbridge didn't give him one either.
"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," she replied with a sickly sweet smile. "Off you go then."
With a snort, Nnoitra flipped his middle finger at her with her back turned. He did not plan on writing that line…at all. So with a grin, he started to write 'All bitches go to hell.' A slight sting on his hand alerted him to something not right. He averted his eyes from the glimmering 'red ink' on the parchment to his hand.
Not red ink.
My lines… carved… into my hand.
This is gonna be fun!
With a grin, one that Umbridge seemed a little unnerved by even though he couldn't see her, he scribbled some more on the parchment. Everything he wrote appeared on his hand, healed over, then the next line would appear. The cycle was endless and Nnoitra was having too much fun to pay attention to the time.
Then a tune started going through his head and he wrote it down as well. 'Well, Umbitch's a bitch, she's a big fat bitch, she's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world!' As the tune went on in his head, his hand healed again before he wrote on. 'She's a stupid bitch if there ever was a bitch, she's a bitch to all the boys and girls.' Again his hand healed over. 'On Monday she's a bitch, on Tuesday she's a bitch, on Wednesday through Saturday she's a bitch, then on Sunday just to be different, she's a super king kamaya-maya bee-atch.'
Alright, this I have to agree with.
"Mr. Potter," Umbridge called out to him. "Come here."
With a grin, he looked over at him. "Where can I find one of these quills? My lover would just enjoy making me hard with it."
Szayel smiled as he laid back against Nnoitra's chest, examining Nnoitra's red hand. "Yes, a blood quill," he commented. "If used often enough, it will carve the words right into your very flesh, and there they will stay and scar. That's why they're only used to sign important documents. And she was using this on you in detention?"
"Mm-hm," Nnoitra hummed, chin on the crown of Szayel's head.
"Can he use this to get rid of her?" Tesla asked, laying on his beck at the foot of Nnoitra's bed, kicking his feet over the edge of it.
"Unfortunately, that is unknown at the moment," the pink-haired teen sighed dramatically, bringing the reddened hand to his lips. "Fortunately, because of you writing random lines instead of one, the words may never truly 'sink in'. If anything, they will overlap, looking like nothing more than a bunch of scratches."
"By the way, sir, I'm curious," Tesla said as he rolled onto his stomach and kicked his feet in the air. "How did she react to your lines?"
"I haven't even seen that fat fuck Vernon turn that red," the tall teen snickered. "I think laughing about it pissed her off even more."
"Plan on going back tomorrow night?" Szayel asked, looking up as much as he could without Nnoitra's moving his own head.
"Hell yeah, I gotta finish that song."
Needless to say, though, he never showed up on Friday.
Just as Szayel said, his hand was more of a mess, nothing standing out at all. "It seems I will have to find a more suitable punishment for you, Mr. Potter," she stated, though Nnoitra could practically hear her teeth grinding. She even extended the detentions to two weeks, trying to bribe him with less time if he just wrote the line even once. Thing was, he was enjoying this too much.
"You really don't know shit about me here, do you?" Nnoitra cackled.
Well it only took your other teachers two years to figure you out before giving up.
"You may go then, though I can tell you haven't learned your lesson," she stated, rolling up the parchment and holding it over her candle, like she had been for the past two weeks.
He laughed loudly as the parchment burned. "You're trying to teach me a fucking lesson? People more powerful than you tried and all I did was bash their fucking skulls in! Ha-ha-ha!"
He marched out, still laughing. All it did was make Umbridge shiver in fear.
"So what'd I miss?" Nnoitra asked, dropping onto his seat between Szayel and Tesla.
"Well, you know about that red-head making Keeper for the Gryffindor team, but there has also been something a little recent," Szayel replied, pulling out a page of the Daily Prophet. "Sturgis Podmore, a flaming chicken as you put it, has been arrested and sentenced to six months in Azkaban."
"What for?" Nnoitra scoffed, reaching for a bit of meat. "Wait, Dumbledore allowed that?"
"It would be suspicious if Dumbledore intervened, but Podmore was arrested for trying to get back a high security door in the Ministry," the pink-haired teen answered, golden eyes scanning over the article. "Now, why would Dumbledore send a man to a high security area?"
"Something's there, something he, Voldemort, or both want," the former Quinta chuckled, then looked down at Tesla. "You're pretty damn quiet. What's up?"
Tesla shook his head. "Nothing," he answered, though Nnoitra noticed him hiding his hand.
"Give it here," he said lowly, eyes narrowed and hand held out.
Chewing on his bottom lip, Tesla lifted his hand before Nnoitra grabbed it. In bright red was a single line. 'I will respect the Ministry.' "Umbridge didn't like me saying that the Ministry is full of idiots who should know better than to call you a liar," he explained when the narrowed purple-green orbs were directed at him.
Oh, HELL NO!
Yeah…Verruga made me promise not to tell you…
"Fuck that bitch, I will strangle her," he growled, letting go of Tesla's hand.
"It's being treated," Szayel comforted him. "Hopefully, with proper treatment, it won't scar."
Nnoitra was silent for a moment then looked at Tesla. "I've had detention for two weeks. When did you serve yours?"
"During my free periods," he answered.
"Bitch definitely dies."
Szayel's golden eyes glanced at the fireplace, eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. "Harry, love, I believe your godfather is in the fireplace," he commented. Even though it was only them and Tesla, they didn't want to use their real names if there was a chance, no matter how slim, that someone was listening.
Nnoitra looked over and waited for a few seconds until Sirius's face appeared in the fire. "Hey, Sirius," he greeted boredly.
"I was starting to wonder if you had gone to bed before everyone else disappeared," Sirius stated with a grin. "I've been checking every hour!"
"And no one saw you?" Tesla asked in amazement.
"Well, one girl may have seen me, a first year by the looks of her," the man replied. "I was gone before she looked back at me. I'll bet she thought I was just an oddly shaped log."
"So why the call?" Nnoitra asked. He hadn't written to Sirius lately. Only weird thing that hurt was his scar acting up when Umbitch grabbed his arm, but he just ignored it completely.
"I haven't heard from you in a while, and as your godfather, I thought it would be a good idea to check up on you every once in a while," Sirius stated. "So, anything new going on?"
"New teacher is a total bitch," Nnoitra stated uncaringly. "Got detention for two weeks. She used a blood quill on me. I had a lot of fun. Then Colin here got in detention and he has words carved into the back of his hand!"
"Calm yourself, love," Szayel soothed, reaching over and rubbing the center of Nnoitra's back.
"Fuck no, Umbitch dies!"
"Who?" Sirius asked.
"Dolores Umbridge," Tesla told him. "She works for the Ministry."
"Ah, her," Sirius groaned angrily. "She's a nasty piece of work – though you should hear Remus talk about her."
"Does Lupin know her?" Szayel asked curiously.
"No, but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it impossible for him to get a job."
"What the fuck is her problem with werewolves?" Nnoitra scoffed with a roll of his eyes.
"Scared of them, I expect," Sirius stated. "Apparently, she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have mer-people rounded up and tagged last year, too."
"So she's a narrow-minded, self-centered, holier-than-thou bitch through and through," the tall teen commented, shaking his head. "Well, now I know how to piss her off!"
"In a nutshell," the older man sighed. "So what are her lessons like? Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?"
"No magic, only textbooks," Tesla answered with a shrug.
"That figures. Our information inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."
"Too late," Nnoitra muttered, leaning against a nearby chair. "So what the fuck is the problem? Fudge thinks that an army of underage, inexperienced kids is being formed to take over the Ministry and kick his sorry ass out?"
"When you put it that way, it does sound quite stupid, but that is what he is thinking," Sirius admitted. "He thinks Dumbledore is making his own private army, which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic."
"…Fudge is a fucking idiot."
"When's your next Hogsmeade weekend, anyway?" Sirius asked giddily. "I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could-"
"Risk getting caught then thrown into Azkaban and getting the Kiss?" Nnoitra snorted with a roll of his eyes. "Fuck no."
"Didn't you see the Prophet, Sirius?" Tesla commented with a heavy sigh.
"Oh that," Sirius brushed off. "They're always guessing where I am, they haven't got a clue."
"Fuck no," Nnoitra told him firmly. "Look, you want to be a fucking idiot, fine! Be a fucking idiot! Go out and wait for someone, like those jackass Malfoys, to recognize you and call the Ministry! Get your ass thrown back into that very same cell you wasted twelve years of your life in! Only this time, they won't be as nice." He growled and got to his feet. "I'm done dealing with moronic assholes!"
Szayel watched him walk off before looking at Sirius with a lazy smile. "They did know where you were then, Sirius," he pointed out. "That's just his way of showing he cares."
MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM - DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST–EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"
Nnoitra, Szayel, and Tesla stared at the headline blankly. "The fuck is this shit?"
"She can now inspect other teachers," Szayel sighed sadly as he read over the article, then he grinned. "I can't wait until she gets to Master Snape."
"I'd pay to see that," Nnoitra chuckled. Tesla nodded in amusement.
Umbridge was not inspecting Snape that day, much to Nnoitra's disappointment. Szayel, though, took his spot on Nnoitra's lap as Snape handed essays back, Nnoitra's with a large D on it. Szayel chuckled as he played with the long black hair spilling over the taller teen's shoulders.
"Well, dear," he sighed dramatically, picking Nnoitra's essay off the table and fanning it in the air. "You would burn water on a good day!"
"One time!" Nnoitra told him as his pink-haired lover left his lap.
He held up his index, middle, and ring fingers, wiggling them. "Three, love. Three times."
DADA…again…Nnoitra wanted to burn something.
Later, if it really makes you feel better.
Plan on it. Grabbing Szayel and Tesla, and we will burn a pile of DADA books. At least this year's stock. Second's too, if there are any still around.
Hermione, once again, raised her hand once Umbridge gave directions. Hermione admitted to reading the whole book and answered Umbridge's question concerning chapter fifteen. She probably didn't mean to look impressed, but she did, then took points off when Hermione said she disagreed with the book.
"The fuck is wrong with you?" Nnoitra asked, the old toad already making him angry. "She answered your fucking question. The hell kind of backwards logic says points are taken away for a correct answer?"
"I removed those points because of Miss Granger disrupting my class with pointless interruption," Umbridge started, "I am here to teach you using a Ministry-approved method that does not include inviting students to give their opinions on matters which that understand very little."
"Opinions are what turn the fucking world around," Nnoitra drawled out. "We didn't have them, we'd be brainless husks, like you, with no damn willpower of our own. With no…will to find out the Why's and the What's. If we weren't meant to have opinions, we wouldn't fucking have them."
"That's enough, Mr. Potter," Umbridge cut him off. "Your previous teachers in this subject have allowed you more license, but as none of them – with the exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age appropriate subjects – would have passed Ministry inspection…"
"Yeah, the fucking dumbass with Voldemort's face on the back of his head was the perfect example of a fucking portrait teacher!" Nnoitra shouted, throwing his arms into the air.
The silence seemed loud, but Santa Teresa's laughing was even louder.
"Another week of detention is in order, I believe, Mr. Potter," Umbridge told him.
Nnoitra shrugged then grinned. "I got a new song for you," he cackled.
Nnoitra grinned as he watched Umbridge making herself comfortable in McGonagall's lair. Students tend to fear this den, for the beast within is merciless. Umbridge had no idea what she was getting herself into.
The dragon entered her den with a march, completely ignoring Umbridge. "That will do," she said, silence following. "Mr. Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework – Miss Brown, please take this box of mice – don't be silly, girl, they won't bite you – and hand one to each student-"
"Hem, hem," Umbridge coughed.
McGonagall ignored her with the skill of a master as Seamus passed homework back out. Nnoitra was surprised to see an A on his.
"Right then, everyone, listen closely – Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again, I shall put you in detention – most of you have now successfully vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have the gist of the spell. Today, we shall be – "
"Hem, hem," Umbridge interrupted again.
Nnoitra grinned as McGonagall turned her head. "Yes?" she asked curtly.
"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec-"
"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you're doing in my classroom," the dragon responded, her words cutting the life of Umbridge's sentence short. She turned away. "As I was saying, today, we shall be practicing the altogether more difficult vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell-"
"Hem, hem," Umbridge coughed again.
Having enough, Nnoitra turned to her. "Shut the fuck up, she's doing her fucking job, unlike you," he told her off. "If you're inspecting people by interrupting them while they're teaching, then you're not doing your fucking job. Are you?"
"Mister Potter, you already have another week of detention," Umbridge sweetly pointed out. "Don't make me add another for interrupting me."
"So I can't interrupt you but you can interrupt the professor who is, unlike you, trying to do her job and teach us dumbass kids about how to make shit vanish? Oh, nice. Fuck you, bitch."
"Mister Potter, that will be enough out of you," McGonagall told him sternly.
He smirked and leaned back in his seat, holding his albino mouse by its tail and waving it gently. "White flag, I surrender."
"Though Mister Potter does have a point," McGonagall said, looking to the pink monstrosity in the room. "How can you expect to gain an idea of my teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I generally do not permit people to talk when I am talking."
"Take that, Umbitch!"
"Mister Potter, that is enough out of you."
"Yes, ma'am," Nnoitra quickly replied. Normally, he doesn't listen to women, but this is a woman who deserves respect and will be pissed if she doesn't get it. He has seen her pissed. It is not fun.
Nnoitra's hand hadn't healed like it did before, leaving criss-crossing lines and incomprehensible words on the back of his hand. Szayel, after much…persuasion…managed to wrap Nnoitra's hand in murtlap tentacles. Tesla was sitting on the floor in front of the two as Hermione and Ron talked.
"She's an awful woman," Hermione stated firmly. "Awful." She then looked at Nnoitra. "You know, I was just saying-"
"I don't give a flying fuck," Nnoitra told her.
She huffed, but ignore him. "I was just saying to Ron when you came in…we've got to do something about her."
"She can be a new test subject for me," Szayel offered with a lazy smile.
"Punching bag for Verruga?" Tesla suggested.
"Liking both ideas," Nnoitra commented with a smirk and a nod of his head.
"I suggested poison," Ron threw in.
"Really," Hermione huffed. "I meant we have to do something about what a dreadful teacher she is. How we're not going to learn any defense from her at all."
"Unless we kill her, nothing we can do," Nnoitra pointed out. "Fucking Fudge stuck her here. Fucking Fudge will make sure she stays."
"Well," Hermione sighed. "I was just thinking that…maybe the time's come that we should just…do it ourselves."
Nnoitra, Tesla, and Szayel tensed at that. She cannot be thinking what they think she's thinking. Ron and Hermione argued for a moment before she finally announcing. "We're past the stage where we can just learn things out of books! We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong."
"Surely you're not recommending Harry," Szayel commented. "He does not have the patience."
"Of course I'm talking about him!" Hermione exclaimed happily. "He's faced Voldemort! He knows what we'll be going up against! He can show us what we need to know and teach us!"
Nnoitra groaned angrily as he got to his feet, rubbing at the murtlap tentacles wrapped around his hand. "Love, you cannot be thinking about it," Szayel told him softly.
A chuckle escaped the tall teen. "You know what? It'll be fun," he said. "But keep this in mind, little bitch. If we go through with this, things will go my way."
Tesla and Szayel grinned. Hermione had no idea what she just offered to him. "He's right," Tesla agreed. "Sir, if you have need of an assistant, I will be glad to render my services."
"Wouldn't have anyone else," Nnoitra stated as he turned to them with a smirk. "Gabriel, babe?"
Szayel rolled his eyes and pushed up his glasses. "You know better than to ask me such nonsense, of course I'll help out," he answered. "When should we start gathering our forces?"
Nnoitra scanned over the nervous yet eager crowd. Twenty-four people. "That's not a couple," Nnoitra commented, glaring at Hermione form the corner of his eyes.
"Well, I thought anyone who would want to learn should have a chance," she defended.
"I'm going to slice your fucking throat," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Easy, Harry, love," Szayel soothed, sipping at his butterbeer.
"Dennis, stop that!" Tesla scolded his younger brother. "I only agreed to bring you along so you can learn some actual defense!"
He sighed harshly before slamming his palms on the table in front of him, making everyone jump. "So, do any of you know why you're even here?" he asked. Everyone nodded to him. "Good. Let's not sugarcoat shit then. Even sugarcoated, shit is shit. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am talking of the biggest shit pile of them all, Umbitch!" He pushed off of the table. "Voldemort's back and he isn't going to take any pity on worthless shits like you."
"Where's the proof?" the blond Hufflepuff asked.
"Nothing but my word and if you don't give a damn about it, then stop wasting my fucking time and get the hell out!" The boy didn't move. "That's what I thought. You're all here because deep down, you know he's back. And you want to defend yourselves. Deep down, you're scared pussies wanting something to hold onto just to stay alive for as long as you fucking can. Well, boys and girls, I can give you that. I can give you your fucking blanket to wrap yourself in to keep the monsters out. Want to learn real defense instead of this bullshit Umbitch even fucking dares to call teaching? Sign up. Just keep this in mind. I am your teacher. I make the rules. This will be done MY way."
Learn or die, plain and simple.
Everyone signed, agreed to learn from him. "So where should we meet and how often?" someone asked.
"Once a week should suffice, that way you all still have adequate time for your assignments," Szayel drawled. "Oh, love! Perfect place, too! I actually found this place to make my experimental potions. Master Snape told me it's called…Wait…not here."
"Why not? No one but us will hear," Hermione asked.
"We are not the only ones here," Tesla pointed out, nudging his head to the witch in the corner and the bartender. "This place has no noise to cover up our own."
"We'll get back to it later," Szayel said, getting to his feet. "I shall write to Alex and ask him how things are on his end."
"Send him my gift! I forgot!" Nnoitra told him as the pink-haired Octava left.
"I have it," Szayel called back before the door closed.
"I still can't believe you got Alex bondage material," Tesla stated with an amused snort.
"Hey, he finds his woman, whole new world!"
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISTOR OF HOGWARTS
ALL STUDENT ORGANIZATIONS, TEAMS, GROUPS, AND CLUBS ARE HENCEFORTH DISBANDED
Too much of a coincidence.
Let that bitch try and stop us.
"Love," Szayel whispered. "I think we should burn this."
Nnoitra grinned as he held up a lighter and flicked it on. "You read my mind."
"Oh, I've always loved that owl," a girl swooned as Teresa stood on the sill. "She's so beautiful."
While Binns droned, Nnoitra went over to the window and opened it, letting his owl hop onto his arm before going back to his seat. Not even bothering to remove the letter, he inspected her wing. Feathers were ruffled and her wing was oddly angled.
Something's attacked her.
Someone's intercepting the mail…Fuck!
How could you not see this coming?
Did we have mail in Hueco Mundo? No? Then how the hell should I have seen this coming?!
"You will notice that we have a guest today," Snape pointed out with more sneer in his voice than usual. "Gabriel, off of Potter's lap."
"I need him for an experiment, sir," Szayel told him with a smile, holding up a vial filled with a cloudy liquid. "If you do not mind, sir, I would like to test this on him instead of letting him get to work on the Strengthening Solution. After all, if this experiment goes wrong, he won't be able to do his work."
"Very well then," Snape granted, probably hoping something would go wrong. "As for everyone else, we are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson. If correctly made, they should have matured well over the weekend. Instructions on the board. Carry on. Potter, if you are still able to work after Gabriel is done with you, I expect you to be here on your next free period to complete your own work."
Nnoitra flipped him the middle finger. "Sure thing, fucker," he commented before Szayel grabbed his arm and gave it a yank. "Hey, easy, babe."
"Oh, I felt you twitch, you liked it," Szayel commented, pouring the potion on Nnoitra's arm. "Besides, it give you a chance to eavesdrop without blotching your potion."
"What is that, anyway?" Nnoitra asked.
Szayel looked at him with a grin. "Liquid hierro."
Putting gloves on, he rubbed the potion into Nnoitra's skin before pulling out a scalpel. "Test one." He held it blade downward before swinging it onto Nnoitra's arm. Some students watching let out shouts or shrieks. Snape raised both eyebrows in shock. The scalpel's blade bent. "Positive. Five minutes, love. I need a new one."
Only Szayel, really.
Knew I loved him for a reason!
I didn't say that.
Sure you didn't.
Szayel came back every five minutes to test the hierro, and gleefully took notes at each positive result. He even tried a meat cleaver and at some point, no one knows where he got it, a sword.
Fornicaras was not happy about being used in the experiment.
"Sirius is in the fire again," Szayel sighed as he turned a page in his notebook, jotting notes down.
Nnoitra looked over before kneeling in front of the fireplace. "What?" he asked.
"No need to be rude, Harry," Sirius brushed off easily. "How're things?"
"Well…royally fucked up. Ministry's banded any teams or clubs for anything."
"Like secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group?" Sirius inquired.
Szayel snapped his notebook closed as he lazily looked to Hermione. "We told you the Three Broomsticks would be easier, but no, we had to go someplace that was quiet enough for anyone to hear us," he commented, sitting upright.
"Who overheard us?" Hermione asked incredulously, appalled by the mere thought that her idea failed.
"Mundungus, of course," Sirius answered. "He was the witch under the veil."
"Cross dresser…Fuck, he's Charlotte Coolhorn!"
"No he's not, dear, he's not," Szayel comforted with a pat on the shoulder, though shuddered at the thought.
Sirius completely supported them and even tried to think of places for them to meet. Then he suddenly went quiet and his head turned around.
"What the hell's going on?" Nnoitra asked with a jerk of his head. Sirius vanished before a stubby, short-fingered hand wearing ugly old-fashioned rings reached through the flames, groping to get a hold of something.
With a grin, Nnoitra held up his wand. "Accio dirty underwear," he commanded with a grin. A pair of white and stained briefs flew to his hand before he held it out for the hand to take. It was grabbed and pulled back.
"Epic," Tesla commented with a grin.
"I can't believe you did that," Hermione scoffed, standing up and going to the girls' dorm.
"I wonder what her reaction is," Szayel said with a grin. "Come, dear, 'tis bedtime."
Nnoitra's eyes opened to see nothing but trees around him. "The fuck am I doing here?" he asked, looking around his mindscape. Off in the distance, he heard Santa Teresa's intimidating yet girly voice. "This can't be good."
He walked by at least ten trees before finding his zanpakutou spirit, with…Voldemort in front of her…dressed in a…pink…frilly…dress.
"The fuck did I walk in on?"
"Oh, Master! You're here! How nice! Pour the damn tea, slave!"
"Just kill me and be done with it."
"Seriously, Santa Teresa, the fuck?"
"Well, plain and simple," she started off. "This is a fragment of Voldemort's soul. Remember that one in the diary when you killed the giant snake? Yeah, this is another one."
"When did it get here?" Nnoitra impatiently asked, trying not to look at the sulking fragment.
"When he epically failed to kill you when you were just a year old," she answered with a smile.
"Everything does," Nnoitra sighed heavily. "Well, what are you doing to the fucking bastard?"
"He's my slave while he's here, he wears what I want him to wear and does what I tell him to," she chirped, bouncing in place happily. "If he doesn't, then he is very thoroughly tortured."
"Fornicaras helps. Verruga does too, sometimes."
Nnoitra stared at her then turned around. "Interrogation and carry on."
"Sir, yes, sir!"
Szayel hummed gently as Nnoitra sat up. "Something wrong?"
"Ask Fornicaras what she does to this soul piece in my head."
"Oh, you're a Horcrux, too? Fascinating. Explains everything."
"Horcrux. I found one over the summer and destroyed it at HQ. The old elf was hiding it. It felt dark, so I took care of it."
"Huh, well, keeping this one for now. Santa Teresa's having fun."
"Leave it be, then!"
Nnoitra, Tesla, and Szayel stared at the door that suddenly appeared in front of them. "Behold," Szayel announced dramatically, stepping forward with his arms open. He turned around, arms still open. "The Room of Requirements!"
"Babe, this is perfect," Nnoitra comment, smirking. "First meeting's tonight."
"Alright, ass wipes!" Nnoitra shouted, making everyone but Tesla and Szayel jump. "I'm in charge here. My word goes!" He noticed a hand in the air. "What the fuck do you want, bitch?" he asked with a heavy sigh.
"Don't you think we should have a name?" Hermione asked. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"
He stared at her blankly. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were Neliel," he commented. "Talk about it, if you want. Inconspicuous. With nothing tied to any of us. No 'Harry's Defense' or anything with our names in it."
"What about the Anti-Umbridge League?" Angelina asked hopefully.
"No," Szayel replied sharply. "Nothing to say what we are doing."
"The Defense Association?" Cho Chang suggested this time. "The DA for short so nobody knows what we're talking about?"
"Dumbledore's Army," Ginny exclaimed. "It's the Ministry's worst fear."
"Also Voldemort's," Tesla pointed out.
"Can we move on?" Nnoitra shouted. "Fuck, I may as well kick all your asses out! Not you, babe, you stay."
"Qui," Szayel flirtatiously answered.
"Back on subject, please," Hermione groaned.
"Alright!" Nnoitra yelled. "Here's my game plan. Wanna practice spells? First half. Second half will be actual defense. No fucking wands. No damn magic. Good old-fashioned hits."
"You mean…Muggle dueling?" Ron asked in shock.
"Sparring," Nnoitra corrected, pacing in front of the group. "If you lose your wands, you're fucked over. You may as well lay down and let them kill you. Why? Because you're all weak and have no knowledge of fighting without your magic. You're fucking clueless about fighting without magic." He looked over to Tesla. "Colin, warm up. I don't feel like magic right now."
Tesla nodded and got to his feet. "Yes, sir!"
Despite Ron letting in all the shots, Nnoitra still grabbed the Snitch and managed to dodge a Bludger fired towards him from Crabbe. Actually, with the liquid hierro rubbing into his arms and legs before the match, he kicked it back to Crabbe. Szayel seemed happy that there was no bruising from that.
Then Malfoy's taunts came out and George attacked. Nnoitra grabbed him by his collar and pulled him off before punching Malfoy in the mouth. "Ass," he snorted. "Great job walking into his plan."
Both Nnoitra and George were banned from Quidditch because of another degree Fudge sent in Umbridge's favor. And their broomsticks were confiscated in Umbridge's office.
Curious as to where he was, Nnoitra, Tesla, and Szayel went down to Hagrid's cabin with Hermione and Ron.
When he opened the door, Nnoitra couldn't help but make a quip. "Fuck, man! Through some cologne on and you're ready for a date!"
Hagrid looked at him like he was mad but Szayel reached up and hit Nnoitra's head. "Stop being such a smartass, only you would show up like that for a date."
Szayel help up his hand and spread all five digits before closing his hand into a fist and lifting two fingers. "I'm letting half of those go because you had a good reason."
Hagrid's mission was to recruit the giants. The chief that liked him was killed and replaced with a chief that hated Hagrid. No giant help for Dumbledore.
"Fucking sucks!" Nnoitra exclaimed.
Umbridge was inspecting the next CoMC class, Hagrid back and teaching. Szayel chose to follow Nnoitra that day. He took the class into the Forest, saying it was better since they liked their natural habitat and Hagrid has them trained. Nnoitra made a move to Malfoy when he attempted to say something. Malfoy stumbled back and wise shut up.
Chunks of meat were on the ground before the strange horses Nnoitra saw before emerged from the trees. Two were tearing into the meat with their pointed fangs.
"Yes! I knew there were some here!" Szayel claimed excitedly.
"Now," Hagrid said. "Put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"
"What are we supposed to be seeing?" Malfoy rudely asked.
Hagrid pointed to the chunk of meat being torn apart. Nnoitra and Szayel held up their hands, followed by Neville.
"So what the fuck are they?" Nnoitra asked.
"Thestrals!" Hagrid happily announced.
"…I want one…"
"No, Harry, you can't have one," Szayel sighed sadly. "Shame, I want one, too."
"Well, we've replaced you," Angelina told him as she entered the room.
"And here I thought we were getting along so fucking well," Nnoitra scoffed. "Who'd you get?"
"Ginny Weasley is our new Seeker, nothing on you of course. We also have Andrew Kirke and your friend Colin Creevey as our new Beaters. Colin seems to be enjoying his position."
"Good for him," Nnoitra commented, ruffling Colin's hair fondly. "That's mi hermano minor."
"Your what?" Tesla and Szayel both asked.
"I said nothing," Nnoitra quickly defended. "Alright, assholes and bitches! Keep working on your Impediment and Stunning jinxes and we'll move on. You have ten minutes for each! Colin, go help your brother this time. Gabriel, with me."
"Always and forever," Szayel chirped, jumping down from his spot on a table. "You know I'm not much of a up-close and personal fighter."
"Weapons," Nnoitra told him with a grin, summoning Santa Teresa to his hand as Szayel summon Fornicaras. "Make me hard, babe."
"Of course," Szayel accepted with a smirk, lunging towards the taller teen.
He was on the floor. His reflection a snake. Someone was walking down the hall. He slithered up to the man, rearing back as the man turned around. Three times he struck until the man fell to the floor, blood splattered on the floor.
"Harry!" Szayel yelled, shaking him roughly.
Nnoitra gasped as he rolled onto his side, fighting back the bile rising in his throat. "Shit! Fucking hell!"
"Love, what's wrong?" Szayel asked.
"Tell dumbass his dad's at the Ministry, been attacked, and he's dying."
"What?" Ron whimpered, hearing the tall teen.
"You fucking heard me!" Nnoitra shouted. "Your fucking father was just attacked by a fucking snake and is bleeding to death in the fucking Ministry!"
"Didn't know you even cared," his pink-haired lover murmured.
"Don't, but I kind of like that guy in the only way you can like a totally clueless moron."
Nnoitra did not want to go to a hospital of any kind. He was quite content to stay in Grimmauld with Szayel and Tesla. The Weasley brood and matriarch went to visit the patriarch, Mad-Eye and Tonks going with them.
When Sirius was preoccupied with something, Szayel turned to Nnoitra. "So, any ideas?" he asked.
"Santa Teresa is doing interrogation now," he answered with a smirk. "She currently has him pinned to the ground, dressed like a male stripper, I hope she burns that image out of my mind, and Fornicaras and Verruga both are helping her."
Talk! I know you can!
You're all crazy!
Verruga, stop hitting him. He can't talk if you make his lips swell. Fornicaras, choke him instead.
Kind of counterproductive, don't you think?
Leave this to us, Nnoitra. Santa Teresa! I will need leaves from the Szayel Tree. Perhaps Nnoitra's sex life will make him talk. Verruga, find something to keep his eyes open.
"Yeah, I'm staying out for a while," he commented with a disturbed expression on his face.
Tesla and Szayel shared a look before the former Octava just shook his head and leaned against Nnoitra's chest.
"Master Snape is here," Szayel commented, entering the room. "I think he's here for you, love."
Nnoitra groaned and rose to his feet, bending backwards the stretch his back until it popped. "Where is the fucker?"
"Kitchen with Sirius, and be nice," Szayel chastised him with a slap on the arm. "I have a feeling it's important."
"Sure thing, babe, sure thing," Nnoitra muttered as he left the room. Shortly after, he was in the kitchen where Snape and Sirius were seated at the table and glaring at each other.
"Sit down, Potter," Snape ordered him.
Sirius looked like he was about to say something, but Nnoitra cut him off. "You know, we had this conversation before," he pointed out. "Two years ago. I am not a dog, so fuck you."
"I do not have the patience to deal with your attitude, Potter, not sit!" Snape ordered once more.
"Fuck. You. Bat. Shit. Freak."
Sirius decided to cut in then and Snape, of course, argued right back. Bored, Nnoitra sat and watched them, his feet on the table and his chair leaned back onto the back legs.
"The headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term," the Potions Professor announced once he mad Sirius mad enough to shut up.
"The fuck is that?" Nnoitra asked with curled lips.
"The magical defense of the mind against external penetration," Snape told him. "An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."
Nnoitra cut Sirius off before he could say anything again. "I'll just bug Gabriel, thank you," he said, getting to his feet.
"I am to be your teacher, not my apprentice," Snape pointed out.
"Yeah, but Gabriel knows what kind of shit goes on in my head and won't be scarred from it," Nnoitra pointed out with a grin. "Can't say the same for you. Babe! Think you can teach me Occlumency?"
"Darling, when it comes to the mind, I am a master!"
Nnoitra pointed to the door. "See? I'm good."
"My office at six o'clock Monday evening," Snape told him firmly. "If anyone asks, you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them."
"Look! In the sky! It's a bird, no a plane! No! It's Super Asshole!"
Snape groaned with a roll of his eyes.
"Stop pissing off Master Snape or no sex for a week!"
Nnoitra gaped in shock. "Babe, I'll never last!"
Santa Teresa looked back and forth between the two other zanpakutou spirits in her master's mind, then all three looked down at Voldemort.
"Last chance," she warned him, all four arms crossed. "Either you spill, or you get to see my Master and his lover having sex while high. It's very disturbing."
"I'll talk, I'll talk!" Voldemort cried out, his eyelids held open by thin pieces of metal Fornicaras brought over from Szayel's mind.
"That's what we'd like to hear," Verruga chuckled.
Voldemort's after some prophecy thing in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic.
A prophecy? Really? A fucking prophecy?
Yeah, it's apparently important, though only you or he can get it.
Can we interrogate some more now, Santa Teresa?
As much info as possible.
On it, Master! Verruga, get leaves from that blood covered tree over there. Get some from that tree right over there, the one covered with sand. It's a Hueco Mundo Tree, get some leaves! Fornicaras, pry open Voldemort's head. Not this one, the other one!
Yeah, I'm going away now.
Nnoitra entered the room almost silently. Szayel looked up from his cauldron of boiling potion as Snape told Nnoitra to close the door. He slammed it shut.
"So what the fuck do I need to do?" he asked impatiently.
Szayel chuckled as he stood. "Master Snape, if I may," he offered. Snape waved his hand to the taller teen. With a slight smile, Szayel went over to him. "I managed to talk his into letting me teach you Occlumency. Now, listen. You must clear your mind. Empty. A large void. Make it into whatever you want it to be. And retreat into it. Good. Now, brace. Legilimens."
He stood in the forest with Nnoitra, both watching in amusement as the zanpakutous made the leaves reveal the memories they held. Some were violent and bloody, and some were…private. Fornicaras was using the trapped soul fragment to send the memories to Voldemort.
"Hey, look what we figured out!" Verruga happily announced, waving a leaf. "It's a lot of fun!"
"Yeah, the real Voldemort is getting pissed," Santa Teresa giggled.
"Master Szayel, any suggestions?" Fornicaras asked, looking over her shoulder.
"Find the leather outfit," he advised. "Keep this up and Voldemort will want to stay out of Nnoitra's head."
"On it!" all three replied.
Szayel pulled out of his lover's mind and smirked. Turning his head slightly, he told Snape, "I pity Voldemort if he even tries to go into Harry's head."
Think I'll be enough, Master?
Oh hell yes!
"Harry, I have an idea!" Hermione announced, running up to him. "Meet me in the Three Broomsticks midday!"
Nnoitra stared at her then glared. "Who the fuck died and made you boss?"
Rita Skeeter. How Nnoitra hated Rita Skeeter. But just this one time, she is proving useful. She started going on about what to write before pausing and looking at Hermione. "But of course," she said lowly while glaring at the teenage girl. "Little Miss Perfect wouldn't want that story out there, would she?"
"Did I miss something?" Nnoitra asked, looking to Luna for answers. The girl seemed to know everything.
"Hermione found out Rita Skeeter is an illegal beetle Animagus and that's how she knew everything she knew last year," Luna answered dreamily before continuing her hum of 'Weasley is our King'.
"Right," Nnoitra scoffed.
"That's exactly what Little Miss Perfect wants," Hermione told the woman.
The conversation steered to how the Prophet would never print it because Fudge would not allow it and the Prophet only lives to sell. Right now, its sells involved calling Nnoitra a liar.
"My dad thinks it's an awful paper," Luna suddenly threw in as she sucked on her cocktail onion. "He publishes important stories that he thinks the public needs to know. He doesn't care about making money."
"This that paper that has anything to do with those nargles you always warn me about?" Nnoitra asked, looking at her with narrowed eyes.
"Yes," she answered. "He's the editor of the Quibbler."
The other three were silent before Nnoitra's eyebrows rose. "Problem solved! Now where's Gabriel and Colin?"
It was entirely unexpected. The last thing he ever expected to get from outside the school.
A letter from Ulquiorra complimenting him on the interview in the Quibbler. Something along the lines of trash occasionally coming up with good ideas once in a while after all. Also, he did not appreciate the present since his father is now giving him awkward sex talks.
"Well, coming from Alex, that's pretty good," Tesla commented.
"Indeed," Szayel agreed. "Write him back."
"Dear Ulquiorra, enjoy the talks," Nnoitra started. "Glad I could make your life miserable!"
Szayel slapped his arm playfully.
While Nnoitra is a sexist and there are quite a few females he hates more than others, at this moment, he hated no one more than Umbridge. He would gladly take Neliel's condescending tone over this woman any day. At the moment, she was kicking Trelawney out of Hogwarts, basically out of her job and her home.
Tesla glared from his spot to Nnoitra's right and Szayel wrapped Nnoitra's arms around him, his own way of keeping the taller teen back.
Nnoitra had to laugh, though, when Dumbledore appeared on the scene, told the Divinations professor she did not have to leave, put Umbridge in her place as discreetly as possible, then introduced the new Divinations professor.
"A centaur?" Szayel gasped. "Well, nothing better than that."
"This is Firenze," Dumbledore introduced to the thunderstruck Umbridge. "I think you're find him suitable."
"Bitch got put in her fucking place!" Nnoitra shouted, earning a laugh from both Tesla and Szayel.
"Enough out of you, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge shouted back.
"Go! To! Hell! Hey, Firenze! Long time no see! See anything in the stars about this bitch dying soon?"
"No," Firenze answered, playing along. "Yet."
"Upset you left Divination now, dear?" Szayel asked him that night.
"Firenze said something weird," he overheard Ron say to Hermione. He was too loud to ignore. "Something about Hagrid's attempt not working and to give up on it."
Tesla and Nnoitra shared a look. "Want to look into it?" his Fraccion asked him.
"Hell yeah, I'm fucking curious now."
The day Nnoitra was trying to teach them the Patronus Charm went downhill in a heartbeat. Dobby showed up, terrified and tried to say someone was coming.
"Fucking shit, get the hell out of here!" Nnoitra shouted to the others. Everyone seemed to pour through the door, but Nnoitra stayed put.
"Sir?" Tesla called, kneeling in front of him.
"Wait until they're gone," he ordered as Gabriel sat by him.
The last student finally left and the room shifted to a dojo. Catching on, Tesla sat cross-legged and took slow, deep breaths. The door almost literally burst open, Slytherin students entering with wands pointed at the trio. Umbridge emerged from the group.
"Can't a guy get any fucking peace around here?" Nnoitra scowled. "Gonna ban mediation, now?"
"Stand up, Potter," Umbridge ordered him.
"Fuck you, bitch," he chuckled. "I faced scarier shit than you."
"Now, Potter," Umbridge ordered him again. "You can come with me to the Headmaster's office. Mister Ranimer and Mister Creevey will come along as well."
Nnoitra looked at Tesla and Szayel with a grin. "If you can make us."
Malfoy reached down, thinking he now had all the power needed to make Nnoitra obey, and tried to drag him up. Nnoitra pulled him down to the ground and sat on him, punching him across the face. "Next!"
My master is a maniac.
Just now catching on?
Bound and gagged, because of his colorful language, Nnoitra was dragged to the Headmaster's office. Snape was there, ready to chew out Umbridge for binding his apprentice when he saw Szayel. McGonagall was there too, as well as Fudge.
"Fucking Fudge!" Tesla called out happily.
Szayel looked at him with wide eyes then to Nnoitra. "You're teaching him bad habits?"
Nnoitra just shrugged.
Made the Tripping Jinx addled his brains when he fell and hit his head.
Don't make excuses for your master, Santa Teresa.
Verruga, chill pill.
"Well, Potter, I expect you know why you're here?" Fudge asked him.
Seeing Dumbledore slowly shake his head, Nnoitra quite easily lied. "Not really, no."
"No?" Fudge repeated in shock.
"You don't know why you're here?"
"That's why I said no, dumbass."
"So you have no idea why Professor Umbridge gas brought you to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?"
"Nope, and nope."
"Or Ministry decrees?!"
Nnoitra pretended to think for a moment. "I burn all the ones I see, so as far as I am aware…Not really."
"That was you?" Umbridge asked in outrage.
"They are fucking eyesore! And so are you, bitch! Go to hell!"
"So it's news to you, is it, that an illegal student organization has been discovered within this school?!" Fudge nearly roared.
"Really?" Nnoitra shouted back in fake shock. "Damn! Go them!"
"I think he means us, dear," Szayel commented softly. "Apologies, Minister, we were unaware that our exercise was considered illegal."
"Exercise?" Kingsley repeated in confusion.
"Our dojo," Szayel clarified.
"Hey, it takes work to keep this muscle," Nnoitra snorted. "Not that Fucking Fudge will know with all that fat on his ass."
"Minister," Umbridge called. "I think we might make better progress if I fetch our informant."
Well…we're fucked over.
"Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius," Dumbledore pointed out. "Not Potter's army. Dumbledore's Army."
"Behold! Shit has hit the fan!"
"Mr. Potter, I must ask you not to speak or ask you to leave the office with your friends."
"Stay right where you are, young man!" Fudge shouted before looking to Dumbledore. "You?"
"That's right," Dumbledore accepted.
"You organized this."
"Not in the slightest," Tesla muttered lowly.
"You recruited these students for-for your army?"
"Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting. Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe, of course.
Still covering her 'SNEAK' face, Marietta nodded.
"Then you have been plotting against me!"
"That's fucking wrong."
"Shut up, Potter!"
"You shut the hell up, Fucking Fudge!"
Dumbledore vanished in a blaze of phoenix fire.
"Dear, this is serious."
"I know, just saying."
BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
DOLORES JANE UMBRIDGE (HIGH INQUISITOR) HAS REPLACED ALBUS DUMBLEDORE AS HEAD OF HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY.
"Where's my fucking lighter?!"
Nnoitra stared at the teacup filled with drugged liquid. "I'm not drinking this shit, you're trying to poison me," he accused. "That or it's a date rape drug."
"Nonsense, drink some, Mr. Potter," Umbridge told him.
He grabbed the cup, staring down into the liquid, then threw it out the opened window. "You go drink that shit. I'm sworn off tea, it tastes like piss."
He sat in the room. Alone, with McGonagall and Umbridge. "The fuck do I want to be when I'm all grown up and out of his hellhole?" he repeated in his own way. "Uh…I think I'd like to be a…huh…hmm…this is a tough one…"
"Mr. Potter, there are many positions to consider," McGonagall told him reassuringly. "Auror, Curse-breaker, Teacher-"
"Fuck, man," he groaned. "How about if I just fucking ditched this world when I'm out of school? I kind of want to be a hitman. Kill people and get paid for it."
"Mr. Potter, this is a serious matter," she firmly pointed out.
"Fine, sign me up as a damn Auror if it'll make you shut up and leave me alone," he scoffed with a wave of his hand, slouching in his chair.
McGonagall started listing all the classes he would need to take, with Umbridge being her rude self and interrupting any chance she managed to grab. At one point, she asked if McGonagall received a note she sent her, which McGonagall pulled out and waved in the air. She scanned over it, made no comment, then put it back into the folder.
"Yes, as I was saying, Potter, Professor Lupin thought you showed a pronounced aptitude for the subject, and obviously for an Auror-"
"Did you not understand my note, Minerva?" Umbridge asked, forgetting her traditional interruption cough of death.
"Of course I understood it," McGonagall told her, her words muffled through her clenched teeth.
Word of the wise, Master… get the hell out now.
I wanna watch this!
"Well, then, I am confused…I'm afraid I don't quite understand how you can give Mr. Potter false hope that-"
Now would be good, Master.
"He has achieved high marks in all his Defense Against the Dark Arts tests-"
"I'm terribly sorry to have to contradict you, Minerva, but as you will see from my note, Harry has been achieving very poor results in his classes with me-"
That's because you hate my guts and you're a damn idiot.
Can you leave now, Master?
"I should have made my meaning plainer," McGonagall said, turning to look at Umbridge. "He has achieved high marks in all Defense Against the Dark Arts test set by a competent teacher."
For a split second, there was silence before Nnoitra burst out laughing. "Fucking burn, bitch! Haha! Ice for the burn? Hahahahaha!"
"So…you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, did you?" Umbridge asked the cornered twins.
"Pretty amusing, yeah," Fred answered good-naturedly.
Nnoitra easily watched over the heads of the students, Tesla having to stand on his toes as Szayel barely strained his neck to see. "I'm going to miss those two," Tesla said quietly. "They've been planning this since the fireworks."
The twins summoned their brooms to them, mounted, and declared, "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley - Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, our new premises!"
"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," George added on.
"How sad, the useless bitch needs people to do work for her," Nnoitra chuckled. "Good to fucking know."
"Give her hell from us, Peeves!" Fred yelled to the poltergeist.
To the shock of the student body, Peeves swept his belled hat from his head and sprang into a salute.
"They need to work on being more dramatic," Szayel managed to say over the cheering students.
"Only you would say that, babe."
Nnoitra, Szayel, and Tesla stared at the giant in front of them. Szayel was already muttering under his breath about how to get giant blood without being squished. Tesla was looking at it in a similar manner as Nnoitra. Sparring partner.
"So you brought a giant back?" Nnoitra asked slowly. "A fucking giant."
"That you just said you'll take care of if Hagrid is gone," Tesla pointed out.
"I doubt he'll beat it," Nnoitra hissed back at him.
"I couldn' just leave him!" Hagrid defended himself. "See – he's my brother!"
All three looked at Hagrid now. "Really? Fucking seriously?!" Nnoitra shouted. "You thought it was a fucking great idea to bring your giant half-brother to a school full of adolescent moronic brats!"
"Grawp stays out here, he likes it out here," the half-giant man stated.
"Even though he wanted to keep going back, like you said before," Szayel sighed. "And the fact that he's tied to those trees. Yes, he must truly enjoy his new habitat." He suddenly clapped his hands and looked to Nnoitra. "I think this is a prime opportunity."
Nnoitra stared at his lover like he was crazy. "Fine. You can teach the fucking thing proper drama."
"Don't you worry, my dear, I will!"
OWL's. Nnoitra was never patient enough for any kind of test. Heck, when it came time to find out where he would be placed, he just kept on fighting through it until he finally got his rank. The whole thing? One giant test of skill and strength. That isn't to say he didn't know what he was doing. And with Szayel riding him in the non-perverted sense, he was very ready for the tests. Szayel just had to make up for everything afterwards.
Days passed, exams were taken. Then Astronomy came along. And all hell broke lose at Hagrid's cabin. Six people plus Umbridge were trying to Stun Hagrid for a while . Then McGonagall came raging out, only to be hit with four Stunners at once.
Hagrid raged more, but was soon joined by a large beast with short tusks standing on two back hooves.
Go, Tesla! Kick some ass!
On this subject…Go Tesla and Verruga! Umbitch totally deserves it! Squish her!
Hagrid managed to escape and tesla got away, disapepearing into the castle. Chances were, verruga was sealed away again before he was found.
Inside of Nnoitra's mind, the soul fragment of Voldemort managed to escape the mantis lady. He felt a pull from the original and allowed him into the mind to plant a vision. It got as far as Voldemort torturing the boy's godfather before he was found by the very mantis he was trying to hide from.
"Well," she huffed. "You are asking for the pink princess dress and a visit to the Slaughter Tree."
"Please no, that Tree gives me nightmares! No more!"
"Too bad! Wait! Even better! The Kinky Tree!"
"No! I beg of you! No!"
Szayel looked down as the mantis holding the small scroll. "Thank you, Santa Teresa," he said softly as he took the miniature scroll before the mantis disappeared. "Oh, I hope she's having fun with that fragment. It would be a shame for her to be bored."
He unrolled the scroll and quickly scanned over it. Voldemort is sending him visions of his godfather being tortured, which he thankfully knows is false, but he feels like pissing Voldemort off. Basically, he was asking Szayel to join him on a possible suicide mission.
"Master Snape, urgent matter that I must take care of concerning Harry," he explained as he rose to his feet. "At least before he kills someone out of boredom, which he will do…eventually."
Snape quirked an eyebrow. "Very well," he granted.
Shall I go to Tesla and ask him if he wants to join us?
I believe Nnoitra already beat us to that, Fornicaras.
As soon as he was out of the room, Tesla was running up to him. "You , too?" he asked with a grin.
"Let us be on our way," Szayel chuckled.
"Hey, get this…Ulquiorra's joining us."
"Hell yeah, Santa Teresa went to talk to Murcielago, never again in my head, and told her everything. She told Ulquiorra. Said he'll meet us there. How the fuck does he know where it is?"
"He's the son of a minister, I think he knows where important building are, love."
"…Oh, yeah… Wait, how's he getting there?"
"Probably old enough to Apparate, and you know Ulquiorra."
"Too damn smart and gets everything right the first fucking time."
"Speaking of time, sir, we're wasting ours."
Ulquiorra looked up when three thestrals flew to him, gently landing on the ground before two of the three rides slid off.
"I'm keeping this thing!" Nnoitra exclaimed.
"Nnoitra, get off the thestral and get in here," Szayel sighed. "Hello, Ulquiorra. Glad you could join us."
"I would rather help you than have my father attempting to ask me why I was sent bondage material and who I am using it on," Ulquiorra stated, glaring at Nnoitra.
"He's still asking that shit?"
"Will you get in the booth!" Szayel sighed exasperatedly.
All four managed to get in comfortably enough. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."
Szayel covered Nnoitra's mouth before he could say anything. "Nnoitra Gilga, Szayel Aporro Grantz, Tesla Lindocruz, and Ulquiorra Schiffer. Recon."
Four badges slid out before the booth finally moved. "So does anyone know where we are going exactly?" Ulquiorra asked calmly.
"Got a general idea," Nnoitra answered, inspecting his badge. Then he noticed the look the former Cuarto was giving him. "Hey, you decided to come along, bat shit. Deal with it."
The broken stone held the ominously swaying veil, whispers reaching through it to the four reincarnated Arrancars. Szayel stepped closer to it, hand on his chin. "Well, it will kill you if you fall through, but who knows where you'll end up," he commented before turning around. "Volunteers?"
"Nah, think we're good," Nnoitra scoffed. "Nice try, babe! Let's go!"
"Maybe if Death Eaters show up, we can shove them through!" Tesla suggested with a grin. "They'll end up in Hell anyway!"
"Yes, perfect, Tesla!" Szayel agreed.
Ulquiorra shook his head. "Why did I decide to come here with you lunatics?" he asked out loud.
"Because without you, we'll end up destroying the place," Szayel told him.
"Ah yes. That is why."
"Give me the prophecy, Potter," Lucius Malfoy ordered him, holding out his hand.
"Go fuck yourself or ask Voldemort to do it for you," Nnoitra told him blankly. "Be a good little lap bitch and go home so you can ride your master's dick!"
"I have no time for your impudence, Potter! The prophecy! Now!"
Nnoitra only grinned. "Oh, hit a sore spot, did I? You're not cheating on your wife with Snakeface are you? Oh! You're fucking Snakeface behind your wife's back! Huh! You desperate fucker!"
The woman off to the side finally had enough and slapped him across the face. Tesla gasped, Szayel went stiff. Ulquiorra just stared at the stupid woman with pity.
"Did you just bitchslap me?" he asked her, slowly turning his head to look at the woman.
She seemed quite proud of herself. "That is what you get for disrespecting the Dark Lord, little brat!" she stated.
Inhaling deeply, Nnoitra shot his own hand out and hit the woman hard enough to knock her into the shelf behind her. It teetered from the impact, slowly falling backwards. "I do not tolerate that kind of fucking bullshit!" he shouted. The shelf finally hit the one behind it, causing the domino effect while smashing prophecies for extra bonus points.
The Death Eaters scattered as the shelves everywhere started falling. "Let's go!" Tesla shouted. "Nnoitra-sama! Sir! We need to go!" Nnoitra stared at the glass ball in his hand, trying to turn the words over in his head. What did this prophecy have to do with anything? "Aniki!" Tesla shouted. Startled, Nnoitra looked at him. "We need to go, Aniki!"
"Love, let's leave this place," Szayel said softly, tugging on his arm. "Preferably before we are turned into unrecognizable mush."
"Yeah, sounds good," Nnoitra agreed, before all four broke out into a run.
The Battle of epic proportions…if you were anyone other than Nnoitra. The Death Eaters managed to trap the group of four in the room with the Veil when the Order of the Phoenix finally arrived.
Sighing harshly, Nnoitra shouted. "Fucking shut the hell up!" his voice echoed. He held the prophecy above his head. "Who wants the shiny ball? Huh? Fetch it then, fuckers!" He turned and threw it into the veil. "Actually, just die!" Santa Teresa was in his hand in a split second before he started swinging the zanpakutou above his head by the chain. "Fight on!"
He threw the sword to Death Eater who tried to fire some kind of curse at him, but was cut off mid casting…by a large sword cutting him in half.
"I think he's sick and tired of all this," Szayel sighed uncaringly as the Death Eaters all tried to get Nnoitra. The five OotP members tried to fight them off. "Dear, I think they can handle the weaklings."
"But I want to kill someone!" Nnoitra exclaimed happily.
"You just did," Ulquiorra pointed out, calmly dodging the spell that nearly hit his head. "See? His torso is over there and his legs are all the way over there."
"When did you become a smartass?" Tesla asked in amazement.
"Harry!" Sirius called to him, running to the group. "You need to get out of here, all of you. We can handle this."
"Ah, no," Nnoitra blandly said. "Hey, babe? Fornicaras still works right?"
Szayel summoned his zanpakutou effortlessly. "Shall we see?" he asked softly, holding the sword up with the point above his mouth. "even though I don't have enough data to work with."
Before Sirius could ask, his insane cousin Bellatrix called his attention with a curse. "Do it, babe," Nnoitra said. "Tesla, Verruga. Ulquiorra, do whatever the hell you want."
Eagerly, they joined into the fray. Well, Szayel stayed off to the side because, let's admit it, the only reason he even made it to Octava Espada is because of his brains, not his brawn, which he severely lacks. Didn't mean he didn't do his own kind of damage, though. He made sure plenty of clones were running around.
"Come on," Nnoitra heard Sirius taunt. "You can do better than that!"
From the corner of his eyes, he saw a second jet of light fly to Sirius, who didn't even seem to be thinking about dodging it. Or just didn't have enough time. Or just wasn't paying attention because he was too busy laughing at the wrong cousin to laugh at.
"Fucking move!" Nnoitra shouted out.
A long red appendage grabbed Sirius and jerked him out of the spell's path before dropping him to the side of the Veil.
"Nice save, babe!" the tall teen shouted to his lover with a wave.
"Bring a Death Eater close enough to me! I want to experiment!"
With a grin, Nnoitra grabbed the closest Death Eater by the throat and threw him over to Szayel, who wrapped the dark wizard with his four wings. "We're good," Nnoitra chuckled. "Head's up! Snakeface is pissed!"
Nnoitra didn't know if it was because he was used to a violent battle with more sword and less lights, but he found epic wizard duels to be quite pathetic and boring. And he was stuck watching Dumbledore fight Voldemort because at the moment, Dumbledore enchanted a statue to keep him back. By holding him.
Yeah, he isn't happy.
Though this is boring…What did you do to the fucker in my head?
He is watching the Kinky Tree. I think I broke his brain.
Oh hell yes.
"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men – and win again!" Dumbledore practically roared. "But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year! Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!"
"He's been dropped on his damn head too many times," Nnoitra scoffed, getting to his feet.
Stuttering, Fudge passed out orders to his Aurors. Dumbledore gave Fudge his own orders. Nnoitra mainly ignored the people around him until Dumbledore pushed the golden wizard's head into his hands. "I shall see you in half an hour," he told him. "One…two…three…"
"Fucking hate these things," Nnoitra groaned as the hook jerked him by the navel again.
"So Fucktard the Great has returned to us," Nnoitra mocked with a shake of his head, ignoring the comments from the portrait covering the walls. "Where are Gabriel, Colin, and Alex?"
"With Madam Pomfrey, for the moment," Dumbledore told him calmly. "She wishes to make sure none of them will have lasting effects from the fight."
"Tch, surprised Alex didn't escape to go home yet and deal with his old man," he commented. "So, the fuck happened back there? What the fucking hell was so goddamn important about that damn prophecy that Voldemort came out of his shithole to get it himself?"
"The prophecy is important, Harry, because it involves the both of you," the Headmaster explained. "I owe you an explanation of an old man's mistake. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it is to be young…and I seem to have forgotten lately…"
"Whatever life story you feel like you just have to fucking share, make it short," the tall teen groaned. "I've heard enough life stories to last me a damn lifetime!"
Short and simple, he already knew everything was a lie and all Dumbledore said was what he already knew. Then he finally got to the prophecy.
"The damn thing was smashed," Nnoitra commented with a shrug of his shoulders then remembered Ulquiorra's special abilities from Las Noches. "Wait…it was just a recording, wasn't it?" Like Ulquiorra's eyes.
"Yes," Dumbledore answered gravely with a nod of his head. He pulled a memory out of his pensieve, a small silver version of Trelawney speaking.
"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HANDS OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"
Nnoitra was silent for a moment. "Well…he's a fucking weakling…but I sure as hell am not going to lie down and get killed by some weakass power maniac. Hell no!"
"Shut the fuck up, you manipulative bastard. I am not doing your fucking dirty work. I am kicking ass. That is what I damn well do. Voldemort wants to kill me? I will not fucking tolerate being killed by someone years weaker than me!"
"He has years of experience against you," Dumbledore pointed out. "Harry, I know you have always been a little arrogant when it came to your own power-"
Nnoitra chuckled. "No, I'm rightfully arrogant," he stated, his lips curled. I can kill Voldemort with me hands behind my back. Then when he's dead, I'll go looking for stronger opponents." He started towards the door, but paused with his hand on the handle. "Even if I kill a thousand weaklings, who would ever acknowledge me as the strongest? Voldemort's just one of that thousand. And I will kill him. It's fucking payback time."
"So he is basically like Aizen?" Ulquiorra asked, looking at Nnoitra after the tall teen explained his brief meeting with the Headmaster.
"Yep," Nnoitra answered.
"Either you kill Voldemort or he kills you?" Szayel scoffed. "That old man is delusional. Rarely anything can kill you."
"That Shinigami did," Nnoitra pointed out with a flick of his finger.
"You know, he does deserve a very painful death," Tesla sighed heavily. "After all, he's made your life hell, basically."
"Which is why I will kill him then toss his happy ass into Hueco Mundo to feed a few Hollows."
"Have fun, dear."
"You're dead, Potter," Malfoy hissed at him.
"Been there, done that, kicked ass, got ass kicked, here and still kicking ass," Nnoitra commented with a grin. "Though I think death would be more fun than your sorry ass."
"You're going to pay! I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to my father…"
"Bitch, you can't do anything before whining to him first. You think I'm scared of your ass? You're just one of that thousand that I won't kill because you're just too damn weak."
"You think you're such a big man, Potter. You wait. I'll have you. You can't land my father in prison-"
"He's already there, dumbass."
"The dementors have left Azkaban. Dad and the others'll be out in no time…"
"At least now everyone knows they're trash," Tesla spoke up.
Malfoy reached into his robes for his wand, but Nnoitra soon had his hand around the blonde boy's neck, lifting him against the wall. "One day, you will be just as much a fucking weakling as your dad is, and you will burn in Hell for it. Might want to straighten up. I may send you there just out of annoyance."
"…Fuck…I don't want to deal with your ass right now, Snape!"
Nnoitra tuned out most of the conversation. He is not the kind of guy who needs others to check on him or look out for him. Vernon seemed angry to being threatened like he is. Though the tall teen had to laugh when Vernon jumped back once he saw Moody's eye.
A hand was on his shoulder, turning him around to the smirking face of his lover. "You behave yourself for once," Szayel said, straightening Nnoitra's collar. "You'll get a nice present if you do."
Nnoitra let out a throaty moan. "Babe, I can't make promises, but I will try my best just for that present."
Szayel chuckled. "See you when school starts up again. And don't let Santa Teresa torment your little Voldemort to suicide."
I promise nothing!
"Yeah, no promise there either."
Here the Chapter Ends
It turned a lot more serious at the end than I would have liked. O_O No, I want funny! DX
Anyway, review, people! I would like some feedback and I will have the next chapter out as soon as I can! So long as X and Y do not distract me since Mass Effect isn't doing it as much anymore. Whoops.